


Broken Glass

by Ch3sh1r3Hatt3r



Series: The Mortal Part of Us [3]
Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15636789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ch3sh1r3Hatt3r/pseuds/Ch3sh1r3Hatt3r
Summary: There are the days when Jessa really hates being alive, and the past couple months have done nothing to help with that. Now, with politics cutting off a lot of possible options and Jak’s new crush, what was complicated enough before is now even twistier than a pretzel. And when the gang ends up going to Alicante with a war looming on the horizon (as well as a psycopathic, maybe-possibly-almost-definitely-totally-uncle), Jessamine Grace is bracing for the worst.





	1. Chapter 1

** JAK **

       I wake up to my phone buzzing relentlessly on my side table. Rubbing my eyes blearily with too-hot palms, I sit up and open the messages. They’re all from Jace. 

Not A Natural Blonde, 7am  
Hey.

Not A Natural Blonde, 7am  
Jak

Not A Natural Blonde, 7am  
Wake up

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:01am  
Dude

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:01am  
I know ur going 2 wake up eventually

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:01am  
J, this is a code red of the reddest degree

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:01am  
Jak, Jessa isn’t picking up either

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
J

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
A

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
K

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
W

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
A

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
K

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
E

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
U

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:15am  
P

You, 7:16am  
… wtf is going on

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:16am  
Clary met some1 who told her that she can help wake her mom up & she wants 2 go 2 Idris & meet a warlock who can

You, 7:16am  
Ur sister, ur problem

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:17am  
Ur my cousin. Ur obliged 2 help

You, 7:17am  
Since when

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:17am  
Since I agreed 2 buy u as much alcohol as u want

You, 7:17am  
I h8 u

You, 7:20am  
When & where

Not A Natural Blonde, 7:20am  
Tomorrow, Institute courtyard. Jessa knows where. Bring her. Pack 4 a few weeks.

~~iNtErMiSsIoN~~

       The courtyard of the Institute is suffocating me with heat, that’s all I have to say. Especially with my high body temperature—or maybe just because of my high body temperature. Two duffel bags rest at my feet, filled with a mix of both mine and my twin’s clothes. Doesn’t really matter anymore. Jess usually buys clothes that she knows both of us will like in my size and we end up sharing.

       There’s another duffel beside Jessa that’s packed with all sort of miscellaneous junk that both of us had deemed necessary to bring with us (see: magical items disguised as ordinary household objects). Jessa is buried in an oversized hoodie that I could’ve sworn I’d been wearing last week, hands tucked deep into her pockets.

       Her wings, concealed under the black fabric, bulk her up, making her look much more solidly built than usual. Wisps of orange hair glamoured brown blow about in the wind, and I notice that her eyes are a deep chocolate brown instead of the amber contacts she usually has in. I raise an eyebrow, bumping her lightly. 

       “What happened to amber?” I ask quietly. Jessa makes a face.

       “Too noticeable now,” she replies at the same volume, glancing over to where Maryse Lightwood stands with Isabelle and Alec. I frown. Ever since Valentine’s ship, just a mere two days ago, everyone’s been on edge. Especially Jessa. She didn’t have to wear the hoodie today, because everyone present knows about her wings. But I guess my twin has a right to be on edge. She’s the one with the most obvious visible manifestation of our uncle’s experiments. I don’t say anything, though, just nod.

       My own eyes dart around the courtyard warily. There’s Magnus, leaning against the wall in a white shirt that’s splash-painted a million different colors over tight rainbow leather pants. Alec is pale and uncomfortable, slipping glances at Magnus that the warlock returns comfortingly. Isabelle looks self-assured as always, long black hair twisted into elegant braids tied with silver ribbons.

       Beside her stands Max, glasses slipping down his nose and comic book clutched in one hand. The three Lightwoods stand next to their mother, Maryse, whose eyes, the same color as Alec’s, hold a deep weariness that seems to be weighing her down. Robert Lightwood (or Lightworm, as Jessa insisted on calling him) had traveled to Idris ahead of us. 

       Jace stands a little bit off to my left, leaning against a tree. And then there’s Madeline, the unknown variable. She has white hair, but can’t be any older than thirty, maybe thirty-five. She’s easy to spot, the only one besides Magnus, Jessa and me who isn’t wearing the uniform Shadowhunter black. Madeleine doesn’t seem to be a warlock, as far as I can tell, else Jocelyn probably would’ve entrusted her with whatever spell could’ve woken her up. That reassuring knowledge lets me relax marginally. 

       A subtle glimmer of movement catches my eye, and I whip my head up and around to peer up at the top of the Institute wall. Jessa shifts next to me, following my gaze. Perched on top of the stone wall that encloses the Institute courtyard is Earendil, dressed in mundane clothing with his blue hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. The merman is leaning against a slender, sheathed sword. I can see a strap attached to the sheathe, dangling down along the length of the blade.

       Jessa makes a little noise as Earendil grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. Like a knife, something that you could cut yourself on. If it were anyone else, I would’ve assumed Jessa had developed a crush (because, let’s be honest here, Earendil had this smolder thing going). However, knowing Jessa, I know that that’s not the case. Leaning over to me as Earendil begins to descend on our side of the wall, I can see my twin’s faint scowl.

       “You couldn’t leave your babysitter behind?” she asks quietly.

       “Alas, that would be the very opposite of the task that I’ve been assigned,” Earendil says, approaching us. I groan.

       “I don’t know what’s worse about all this: the lack of privacy or the fact that I have a faerie tailing me all the time.”

       “Both are pretty bad,” Jessa offers shortly. I have to consciously fight to keep the surprise off of my face. It’s been about four days since Valentine’s ship went down in flames, and I can’t get used to how much Jessa’s been talking around other people. The biggest surprise had been that she’d voluntarily spoken to a faerie. Between Abraxos and what I’d heard about the last meeting with the Seelie Court, it’s the last thing that I would’ve expected from my twin.

       But then again, Jessa’s strong. Scarily so. I think that I’ve been expecting this, in some dark, untapped corner of my mind. Thinking about it now, it’s likely that my fear that one day Jessa would reach her limit had overpowered that. That I was happy that my twin refused to talk to anybody but Magnus, Cat, Raphael, Ragnor and me. 

       A nudge brings me back to the present, and I blink. Jessa’s looking up at me, one eyebrow raised. Her gaze darts away for a second, then refocuses in me. She does it again, this time looking away for a beat longer. I sneak a quick glance over to where my twin had looked.

       “Who are we waiting for now?” I ask, slipping another glance over to where Jace stands. The blonde is moving, away from us and towards a familiar vampire. Jessa shrugs, glancing over at our brother. Earendil doesn’t give any indication of noticing our (admittedly unsubtle) darting gazes, but I have no doubt that he’s noticed. 

       I make a mental note to revise my initial thoughts on my Seelie babysitter.

       “Y’know, I think I’m going to go take a piss if we’re waiting,” I say. “I’ll be back.” Without waiting for an answer, I turn and follow Jace and Simon, flashing Jessa a quick smile.

       “Don’t you ever use the phone like normal people?” the vampire is asking—although, I’m using vampire in a relative sense, because what kind of creature of the night walks in broad daylight?

       “Not if I can avoid it, vampire,” Jace replies. I tilt my head as I approach the two.

       “Huh. You really can walk around during the day,” I comment, coming to a stop. “Thought I was tripping balls on faerie weed when I saw it last time.” Simon frowns.

       “If I feel the urge to burst into flames, I’ll let you know.”

       “That’s my thing,” I snark back. Jace rolls his eyes.

       “Back on topic, Jak.” Intense golden eyes swivel back to Simon. “Look, I asked you here for a reason. Much as I hate to admit it, vampire, we have something in common.”

       “Totally awesome hair?” Simon suggests half heartedly. I keep my face carefully blank. Something’s wrong with the both of them. The sarcasm usually isn’t this tame.

       “Clary,” my brother says shortly, cutting right to the chase. I frown outwardly this time.

       “Clary?” I repeat.

       “Clary,” Jace echoes. “You know: short, redheaded, bad temper.” I wave one hand.

       “Yeah, I get it, what I’m asking is: if this is about Clary, why the fuck did you wake me up at ass o’clock in the morning?”

       “It was seven, and you didn’t even answer until almost a quarter past,” Jace replies dismissively. I cross my arms.

       “Point. Still doesn’t answer my question.” The blonde sighs. 

       “You’re going to get Magnus on board,” he explains. “Maryse won’t care, and Madeleine won’t be able to do anything about it. But Magnus has known Clary for a long time, which means that he’ll be suspicious.” I sigh, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders releasing.

       “Alright,” I say wearily. “What’s the plan?” Jace blinks, then turns to Simon again.

       “Like I was saying, we both care about Clary,” he says, the look in his eyes heavy with something unidentifiable. “She’s important to both of us. Right?”

       “You’re asking me if I care about her?” Simon asks incredulously. I kinda agree with the Downworlder. It’s obvious that he’s hopelessly in love with Clary—but something about the look in the brunette’s eyes nags at me, tells me that something’s changed. But there’s misery painted all over the ex-mundane’s face, and it mirrors Jace’s despair perfectly.

       Almost too perfectly. It doesn’t take too much intuition to guess that something’s gone down, and that something made everything much more complicated. Well, more complicated than it was already. Which was pretty fucking complicated.

       “Don’t think I like asking you these questions,” Jace snaps. “I need to know what you’d do for Clary. Would you lie for her?” At that moment, I feel really sorry for my twin and the _parabatai_ bond that she shares with Jace. I can only imagine what sort of emotional hurricane she’s getting.

       “Lie about what?” Simon demands. “What’s going on, anyway?” I blink in surprise.

       “You didn’t tell him?” I ask Jace. It comes out more accusing than I meant it to be, but there’s no taking it back now. 

       “You’re leaving for Idris right now?” Simon exclaims in a quiet whisper. “Clary thinks you’re going tonight.”

       “I know,” Jace says flatly. “And I need you to tell the others that Clary sent you here to say she isn’t coming. Tell them she doesn’t want to go to Idris anymore.” Somewhere along the second sentence, the tone in the blonde’s voice turns into pleading, something that I haven’t heard since Jessa was dying with a demon talon through the leg. “They’ll believe you,” my brother continues. “They know how…” He falters. “… How close you two are.” Simon shakes his head, scowling. I lean around the corner to sneak a peek at the rest of the assembled group.

       “I can’t believe you,” I hear Simon say. Jessa is standing in front of Earendil, whose back is to me. Nobody else seems to have noticed our disappearance. “You act like you want me to do something for Clary, but actually you just want me to do something for you,” the vampire continues as I turn back. He begins to walk away. “No deal.” Jace’s hand shoots out, catching the brunette by the arm and spinning him around. 

       “This is for Clary,” the blonde says firmly. “I’m trying to protect her. I thought you’d be at least a little interested in helping me do that.” Simon’s eyes fall pointedly upon Jace’s hand, clamped around his upper arm.

       “How can I protect her if you don’t tell me what I’m protecting her from?” the vampire replies.

       “Can’t you just trust me that this is important?” Jace asks. Pleads.

       “You don’t understand how badly she wants to go to Idris,” Simon says. “If I’m going to keep that from happening, there had better be a damn good reason.” My brother lets out a long, exasperated breath as he releases Simon’s arm.

       “What Clary did on Valentine’s ship,” he explains in a low voice. “With the rune on the wall—the Rune of Opening—well, you saw what happened.”

       “She destroyed the ship,” Simon recalls. “Saved all our lives.”

       “Keep your voice down,” I say flatly.

       “You’re not saying no one else knows about that, are you?” Simon demands.

       “Luke and Magnus know,” I reply, arms tightening once again. The heat in my hands is building. “Other than that, just the people who were there.” 

       “Then why are you and Jessa going?” Simon asks accusingly. I scowl.

       “We’re not baby Shadowhunters. We know how to take care of ourselves. And they only know that Jessa manifested out of the two of us.”

       “What do they all think happened?” the vampire asks, backtracking. “The ship just opportunely came apart?”

       “Jessa and I told them that Valentine’s Ritual of Conversion went wrong,” Jace replies tightly.

       “You lied to the Clave?” the ex-mundane asks, expression torn between impressed and worried.

       “Yes, I lied to the Clave,” Jace says impatiently. “Isabelle and Alec know Clary has some ability to create new runes, and about Jessa and Jak. We’re not going to be able to the keep that from the Clave or the new Inquisitor. But if they knew that Clary could do what she does—amplify ordinary runes so they have incredible destructive power—they’d want her as a fighter, a weapon. And she’s not equipped for that. She wasn’t brought up for it—“

       Jace stops abruptly as Simon shakes his head.

       “What?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

       “You’re Nephilim,” Simon says. “Or, well, at least Jace is. Shouldn’t you want what’s best for the Clave? If that’s using Clary…”

       “You want them to have her?” my brother demands. “To put her in the front lines, up against Valentine and whatever army he’s raising?”

       “No,” the vampire says hastily. “I don’t want that. But I’m not one of you. I don’t have to ask myself who to put first, Clary or my family.” Jace’s face is dark red, almost the color that I remember my fire being. 

       “It’s not like that,” he protests. “If I thought it would help the Clave—but it won’t. She’ll just get hurt—“ 

       “Even if you thought it would help the Clave, you’d never let them have her,” Simon says flatly.

       “What makes you say that, vampire?” the blonde asks sharply. Simon hesitates, but never gets a chance to reply. At that moment, a high, shrieking cry of desperation splits the air. It’s cut off abruptly. “What was that?” Jace asks sharply, whipping around.

       “Don’t ask, let’s go,” I say, already turning and running back around the corner as more cries join the first. 

       And then the sound of metal clanging fills the air. 

~~PoV sWiTcH~~

** JESSA **

       I never thought that I’d ever be standing back to back with a merman, trusting him with my life and watching his back. But here I am, standing in the midst of some sort of white mist that obscures our vision, back to back with Earendil. Jehoel blazes with light, and I make sure to keep an eye on the three duffels. The smell of something heady and sweet fills my nose, but it’s largely overpowered by the sharp tang of ozone. Through the mist, I can just make out dark, lumbering, humanoid shapes. 

       “Cover me,” I say shortly. Without waiting for an answer, I lunge towards the duffels a foot or so away, snagging them with one hand and dragging them back to Earendil. Heavy footsteps come from behind me, and I silently curse my blind leap of faith. That I’d trusted that Earendil would actually cover me.

       The Seelie Queen has told him to take care of Jak, not me. However, regardless of whether or not the faerie was watching my back, I shuffle to one side of the duffels, zipping and unzipping them each. There. Yanking the duffel bag open, I pull out the first object that I see. It’s a glass orb, inconspicuous in looks but quite the opposite in nature. It could pass for a paperweight if it weren’t so dangerous to leave out in the open.

       The lumbering footsteps are right behind me, and I duck when I hear the sound of something whistling through the air. But before I can even reach for Jehoel, there’s a burst of movement and black blood splatters across my hand. It stings a bit, but doesn’t burn like a demon’s blood would’ve. I scramble to my feet, snatching Jehoel from the ground and keeping a careful grip on the orb. Earendil looks surprised. 

       “Is that an ogǔn orb?” the merman asks, one blue eyebrow raised. I’m pretty sure that color is natural, because nobody dyes their eyebrows. Right? I nod.

       “We need to find the others,” I say flatly. Earendil dips his head in agreement, crouching down to grab the two unopened duffels. I clamp the hilt of Jehoel under my arm and crouch down to zip the mast duffel, full of miscellaneous magical odds and ends. Slinging it over one shoulder very carefully, I ready Jehoel.

       “This way,” Earendil says, tipping his head to my left. “I can hear them.” I follow him without question, ogǔn clutched in one hand. Four lumbering figures appear out of the mist, and I hurry forward, beckoning with the orb for Earendil to follow me, ducking under a swinging beam of wood. We manage to get out of range of all four Forsaken, which I can tell by the disfigured Marks that had been burnt into their skin.

       “Keep running!” I yell. “Make a lot of noise. We’re going to draw them all to the others.”

       “That is a terrible plan,” Earendil replies. He pulls ahead of me anyways, one hand going down to the pocket of his jeans. When his hand comes back up, it’s holding a golden horn that I could’ve sworn he’d pulled out of nowhere. And then he blows it. Loudly. A long, low, mournful note fills the air, drowning out the cries of battle that I can hear through the fog.

       And then Earendil lowers the horn and the Forsaken seem to release one loud, horrible scream at once. Their heavy, pounding footsteps follow. Surprise sparks in the _parabatai_ bond, but I’m not sure if it’s from Jace or Alec. Either way, I can see a group of black-geared Shadowhunters now. The sounds of the Forsaken are growing closer, and I swear as my limp slows me down. We can’t afford this. Chancing a quick glance behind me, I see a horde of the former mundanes on our tail.

       “Throw it!” Earendil yells. “Now!” I whip around, some sort of poky magical item stabbing me in the back as the duffel bounces against my hip. Bringing back the arm attached to the hand that holds the ogǔn, I bring it forward with as much force as I can muster. I don’t wait and watch as the orb arcs through the air, just turn and run at full speed.

       “Go!” I yell, waving Jehoel as much as I dare. A familiar shade of blue light suddenly expands my field of vision, and I can see Magnus with both hands raised at the wall of the Institute. There’s a swirling mass of black, reflective magic in front of him.

       “The Portal!” he yells. “Go through the Portal!” Maryse bursts out of the fog with Max in her arms, disappearing into the Portal soon after. 

       “I threw the ogǔn!” I yell. “Everyone has to leave!” Alec races towards the Portal, pulling Isabelle with him. As the tail of her bloody whip disappears into the Portal, Jak appears as if out nowhere, swearing violently and shaking green and black flames from his hands. Zadkiel is tucked under one arm, and he shifts it to his hands once he smothers the demon fire on his jeans. 

       “You threw the ogǔn?” my twin asks, sprinting for the Portal.

       “Yeah!” I call back. “Go!” A massive shape rears up in front of me all of a sudden, and I swing Jehoel instinctively. It collides with the Forsaken, lodging firmly in its chest. I tug my blade free as it crumples to the ground.

       “Jessa!” I hear a familiar voice yell. I barely have time to throw myself out of the way of another Forsaken. But if it had been heading for me, it isn’t anymore. It’s making a beeline towards a familiar shape in the fog. 

       “Simon, move!” I call, already running forwards. I’m not fast enough. Probably could’ve made it if I hadn’t had the stupid limp. But I don’t. The Forsaken’s double-bladed knife swings through the air, making a sickening squelching noise as it sinks into Simon’s stomach. There’s a rumble, almost like a contained earthquake—and then purple flame washes the courtyard in blazing violet light.

       The Forsaken bearing down on Simon crumbles into ash, and the fog clears. For a brief second, I see a flash of white hair and a body—Madeleine—but then she’s vaporized right after the Forsaken. Magnus’ blue magic turns purple, and I can see his jaw flex as he struggles to control the Portal.

       “Hurry!” he grunts. “The ogǔn screwed up my magic. You have to get through before it shuts down!” A head of blonde hair enters my field of vision, heading for Simon. Jace’s golden eyes meet mine, and he nods once. _Reassurance_ washes through the bond as I turn quickly, sprinting as fast as my limp will allow me to the Portal. It’s not black anymore, more a warped sort of purple.

       Once round, it seems to be writhing, shape changing every few seconds. Pausing at the mouth of the Portal, I look back. Jace has Simon slung over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, heading towards Magnus and me at full speed.

       “Go!” he yells.

       I run through the Portal.

* * *

A/N: So. First chapter of _Broken Glass_ is out, and we’re off to a good start. Hope you enjoyed it, even if it was a little long. I know that we didn’t really get to hear much of Jak or Jessa’s thoughts on having Earendil around all the time, but I think I’ll get to that in the next chapter ;). Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

** JESSA **

       The moment I step through the Portal, I search for a familiar head of silver-dusted black hair. If it weren’t for the audience, I probably would’ve let out an audible sigh of relief when I see Jak standing next to Earendil. As it was, I do let out a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding and begin to hurry over to him. But then there’s a shriek of surprise from Isabelle, prompting me to turn. I raise an eyebrow at my brother, who’s emerging from the Portal—with Simon slung around his shoulders. 

       “You could’ve left him with Mags,” I hiss. Jace just shrugs. I groan quietly as I grip Simon’s feet, helping Jace ease him from the fireman’s carry and onto the stone floor.

       “Who is this?” a deep, gravelly voice demands. I turn my head from where I’m crouched down beside Simon, eyes narrowing. It’s a heavyset man, with flaming orange-red hair and a squashed nose. Harsh green eyes glare out from his face, and my voice locks up. **Don’t trust him, he’s one of the Clave** , a voice whispers. I listen to that voice, turning my head back around and letting Jace answer. 

       “This is Simon Lewis,” my brother says, standing. I let the duffel slung over my shoulder drop to the ground, pressing both hands over the steadily gushing wound in Simon’s stomach. It’s a little hard to see in the gloom, but I can feel the tacky blood. “He’s a friend of ours, and was injured in an ambush that caught us off guard.”

        _Nervousness_ is coursing through the bond, and I grit my teeth in order to ignore it. Jace’s tone is stiff and formal, a noticeable difference from his usual flippant attitude.

       “He was injured as he drew attention away from Jessa, and we couldn’t leave him there to die.”

       “You shouldn’t have brought him here,” the Clave official barks. Hurried footsteps from behind, and a familiar warm presence appears at my side.

       “Jace, we need to move him. If he loses too much blood…” Jak trails off, and I risk a glance over my shoulder. My twin and Jace stand side by side, legs blocking my view of the man in front of them. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Earendil.

       “This is unacceptable,” the ginger insists. I see him shift, move to peer around Jace and Jak. His eyes widen. “Is that a vampire?” he spits. I turn away quickly.

       “Yes,” Jak replies calmly. “And if we don’t move him soon, he’s going to die. Wouldn’t want to break the Accords, hm?” The man splutters, which gives Isabelle and Alec time to hurry forwards. The closer my raven-haired parabatai gets, the stronger I can feel his surprise, worry and trepidation.

       “We’re staying not very far from here,” Izzy murmurs in my ear. “It’s night time, so we can carry him there without too much suspicion.”

       “Maryse,” the Clave representative is raging, “explain to me why you have brought a vampire into the very heart of Idris, the sacred homeland of the Shadowhunters?” There’s a click of heels as Maryse steps forward.

       “Conan, I assure you that this was not my intention. We were attacked by Forsaken. Jace must not have been thinking straight.” 

       “Maybe we should move Simon before he bleeds out?” Jak pipes up. I glance over my shoulder. Maryse nods once, a quick, sharp move.

       “Isabelle and Alec both know where we’re staying,” she say briskly. “You can go ahead. I’ll settle things with the Clave before I follow.” Alec mutters something under his breath, and his worry is only growing.

       “You take his arms, I’ll take his legs,” Jak says to Alec, suddenly standing right behind me. “Jessa, you need to run ahead with Isabelle and get everything ready for when we get there.” I nod, sitting back on my heels. Isabelle pulls me to my feet.

       “Come on, let’s go,” she says, already turning. I pause to wipe my bloody hands on my jeans before hurrying after her. 

~~pOv sWaP~~

** JAK **

       I’m not entirely sure why I’m so calm right now. One of my friends (because even if I’ve only known him for less than a few weeks, we’ve faced down Valentine together) is bleeding out, and my twin’s _parabatai’s_ mother is being chewed out for bringing the dying one into sacred Shadowhunter land.

       I push those thoughts aside as I bend down, grabbing hold of Simon’s ankles. Zadkiel's sheathe scrapes against the floor as I heave in synchronization with Alec, lifting the vampire up. For someone who’s losing a lot of blood, he’s still pretty heavy. We maneuver him out awkwardly, Earendil trailing behind us and the sound of Maryse and Conan, the Clave representative, arguing behind us follows us out.

       It’s dark outside, which I’m grateful for; telling the Clave that Simon’s a vampire that can walk in the sun would make things even more complicated than they already were. The cobblestone streets are quiet, and I can see the vague outline of the demon towers in the distance. I can’t make out any details at this time of night, even with my enhanced eyesight, but I suppose I’ll be able to see them in the morning. 

       Alec turns, craning his head to see over his shoulder, and I turn with him. The contents of the duffel bags that Earendil is carrying clink against each other. The silence is getting uncomfortable, and Zadkiel’s sheathe is beginning to stick to my leg with drying blood. I’ll need to clean it as soon as possible, preferably after I’m sure that Simon isn’t going to die. Another turn, and I can just hear the faint sound of two sets of footsteps on cobblestone.

       Jessa and Isabelle somewhere up ahead of us. Hurried footsteps are suddenly behind us, though, and I swear quietly, craning my neck in order to see behind me. I relax when a familiar golden head rounds the corner a few meters behind, a smaller form held in Jace’s arms. Max and Jace catch up with us quickly, and my brother sets the youngest Lightwood down. Alec speeds up a little, and I adjust my grip as I speed up too.

       I glance down at Max, silently amazed by how calm he is right now. Most nine-year-olds would be freaking out about being attacked by ex-mundanes turned mindless beasts. But Max… well, he looks a little shaken and is gripping Jace’s hand with white knuckles, but other than that he seems entirely unaffected. It’s a little sad to see, actually. How fast Shadowhunters have to grow up. Max deserved to have a chance to flip the fuck out about being attacked by anything, not act so nonchalant.

       I sigh. **It’s not your business,** I remind myself. **Besides, it’s not like you can judge. You were raised almost the exact same way.** I shake my head at myself mentally, following Alec as he turns again. I shift my grip on Simon’s ankles, and the vampire groans a little as he stirs. He stills quickly, though, and I try not to let myself panic about that.

       “Here,” Alec suddenly grunts, tipping his head to the right. 

       We’re on Princewater Street, I note. The house we’re turning towards has a large front garden, and in the practically nonexistent light I can see that it’s painted some sort of dark blue, with bronze trim. Jace pulls ahead, Max’s hand still in his, and Alec and I shuffle up the first step awkwardly.

       A knock breaks the silence, and we only have to wait a moment or so for the door to swing open. It’s a woman, maybe of Asian descent, with short black hair and warm brown eyes. Her eyebrows raise at the sight of us. 

       “So you’re the ones Isabelle was talking about,” she says, stepping to one side. “Come on in.” 

~~4-SeCoNd cOmMeRcIaL bReAk~~

       We put Simon in a bed in a room off of a hallway lined with doors. There were so many of them that I wondered about the size of the rooms behind the doors. The one that we put Simon in is big enough for a large wooden bed, a cubpoard (mirror attached), a brightly-colored rug and a comfy-looking armchair. The walls are painted a pale blue, giving the whole room a feeling of coziness.

       Jessa and Isabelle quickly break that illusion by hurrying in with blood (I don’t think I want to know where they got it, but Jessa looks a little paler than usual; vaguely, I wonder what our blood could do to Simon, but dismiss the thought). The woman who’d greeted us at the door is, apparently, Jia Penhallow, and she’d hurried off to grab some blackout curtains. 

       Isabelle had simply shrugged at me, so I assumed that she and Jess had tried to tell the older woman that Simon didn’t need any curtains to block out the sunlight come morning. Apparently that hadn’t really worked.

       After Simon is set down on the bed, we all retreat into the living room at the bottom of the stairs while Isabelle cleans off the blood all over the vampire. I collapse onto the couch, and Jessa follows soon after, sprawling across my legs. Jace hesitates a beat before lifting my twin’s upper body in order to slip under her, setting her down once he’s seated. Alec and Earendil take another couch.

       Jace, Jessa and I are all covered in black Forsaken blood, and the tip of Jehoel is poking my ribs. Zadkiel hangs over the edge of the couch in its sheathe. Earendil has a few splatters of blood on his clothes, and Alec is fairly clean as well. Still, we all probably should've cleaned up a bit before sitting on the couches. 

       The room is fairly large, and it’s big enough to fit three couches in a half-circle around a currently-empty fireplace. There’s a window behind me that overlooks a canal, but I feel much like looking at water as Simon is dying upstairs. Jia Penhallow hurries through the living room, heading up the stairs with a folded pile of heavy black curtains in hand.

       My fists clench subconsciously, short nails digging into my palm. Jessa always makes me cut mine, but never cuts hers. One of her strange quirks. A gentle hand closes over my clenched one, and I glance over at Jessa. Chocolate brown eyes look back reassuringly, and my twin squeezes my fist comfortingly.

       Jace moves all of a sudden, placing a hand on Jess’ shoulder. My twin cranes her neck in order to look at him, and some sort of creepy _parabatai_ conversations seems to happen. The two stand as one, and I watch them retreat into the room that Jia had emerged from. 

~~PoV sWiTcH~~

**JESSA**

       Jace leads me into what must be the Penhallows’ kitchen, turning to face me with soft golden eyes.

       “I know that we haven’t had much time to talk lately,” my brother begins hesitantly. _Worry_ , _curiosity_ and a faint sense of _trepidation_ makes my stomach flop around like a fish out of water. “I don’t know if this is something that you can tell me or not, but─” my _parabatai_ inhales deeply “—what happened on Valentine’s ship? With Agramon?”

       I don’t take the time to register my own dread that’s building up in my throat. Instead, I shrug, infinitely grateful of the fact that Jace couldn’t seem to detect any of my emotion through the bond.

       “You were there,” I say, keeping my tone light and casual. Like I had nothing to hide. 

       “No,” my brother insists, shaking his head stubbornly. “I mean the person that Agramon turned into. He told Jak that… He told him that you wouldn’t be able to save him. That he was in Faerie.” I look away from Jace, refusing to meet his golden eyes. The emotions from the beginning of the conversation have faded a bit, strong ones coming to the forefront of the bond. _Love_ , _concern_ , _confusion_ , more _worry_.

       “That’s not my story to tell,” I finally say, voice quiet and barely loud enough for my own ears to pick up. I look up again, a little bit to the right of Jace’s ear. “All you need to know is…” I sigh, turning away a bit to tug on loose strands of glamoured hair that have escaped the braid I’d put it in this morning. “Just know that it’s Jak’s story to tell,” I reiterate. “He’ll tell you when he’s ready.” 

       When the two of us arrive back in the living room, Jia is there with two new, unfamiliar people. One’s a girl, who’s definitely some part Asian. She’s got almond-shaped eyes, hair almost darker than Isabelle’s and an impish expression. The other is a ravenette as well, with a slender, yet muscular build, and dark eyes that seem to suck you in.

       I tilt my head at the newcomers, glancing at Jak from across the room. Raise an eyebrow at him, gaze darting back to the boy for a brief second. He shrugs. I grin. Jak rolls his eyes, relaxing in his chair. 

       “I thought that, since they were already up, now would be a good time to introduce you to my daughter and nephew. That's Aline and that’s Sebastian,” Jia adds, pointing at the girl and boy respectively. “I have to go, so behave yourselves. I’m probably going to come back with Maryse. Don’t stay up.” The older woman hurries off, leaving everyone in an awkward, lingering silence.

       Aline and Sebastian's eyes seem to bore into me as I cross the room quickly, dropping down next to Jak.

~~iNtErMiSsIoN~~

       I'm not very comfortable with attention, and Jak knows that. It's probably why, after an hour of awkward small talk and not-so-subtle glances, my twin stands and beckons for me to follow me out of the room. Earendil stands to follow, but Jak waves him down. 

       "Where're you two going?" Aline asks. Her eyes seem to be burning holes into me. 

       "Oh, we need to clean up," Jak says, smiling charismatically. His eyes (the unnatural metallic colors hidden behind brown contacts that match mine) shine good-naturedly. Aline's eyes narrow, but she turns back to her conversation with Jace. I follow Jak out, shoulders sagging once the two of us enter the kitchen. 

       I'm boiling alive in my hoodie, but it's probably not the best idea to take it off quite yet. I'm going to be absolutely screwed if the Clave or Consul thinks that I have to go through some sort of training test. Jak crosses his arms, leaning against the counter deceptively casual. I say that because there's a look in his eyes that tells me that something's bothering him. 

       I cross my own arms. 

       "What?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Jak rolls his eyes, but uncrosses his arms and places his hands on the counter behind him. 

       "Jace took you here and asked you something? What was it?" His brown eyes search mine, and I look away. With Jace it was easier. It's been a while, and he couldn't read me as easily, even with the  _parabatai_  bond. But Jak and I have never been separated. He knows exactly how to read me, and vice versa. It makes keeping secrets a lot harder. 

       "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Jak offers. "But I have a feeling that it was about me, which makes me kinda curious." I snort. Kinda was an understatement. Glancing back at Jak, I see that he's genuinely curious, but not enough to press me for what he wants to know. 

       I sigh. 

       "We should probably actually clean up," I say. "I'll tell you then."

~~PoV sWiTcH~~

** JAK **

       Once Jessa and I are both spotless, we sit on the floor and clean our blades as Jessa explains what Jace had asked her. 

       "So, basically, I think that it's about time that we talk," my twin finishes, setting Jehoel down and turning to face me completely. "Look, it's been a year. I know that this shit doesn't just disappear after a cup of tea, but what I'm saying is that you faced that fear on Valentine's ship. And you won." 

       I stop cleaning Zadkiel, letting my hand rest on top of the flat of the curved blade. Can't look Jessa in the eye. 

       "I know that I won," I admit, staring at my hands. I've been doing that a lot lately. Ever since Valentine's ship, when I killed Agramon with that fire. Demon fire. It's weird, to look at hands that I expect to be shiny with old burn scars, but are now whole and healed and smooth. It's not as big a change as Jessa's wings were, no doubt, but I'd lived a long time with those hands. Come to terms with them. But now... I don't know what to think. 

       "But?" Jessa asks quietly. Not pressuring. Simply asking (is it asking if you both know that there's more to say, but one of you doesn't quite want to say it and the other is willing to let it rest?) if there's more. 

       "He won too," I say quietly, voice shaking a little. I squeeze my eyes shut, wrinkling my nose and cursing myself. No weakness. Not with this. But I know that Jessa won't pressure me to continue, let me cry on her shoulder and leave it at that. But I can't. She was right. We needed to talk about this. 

       "It's just... the fae took him. Put him on trial, and we know that he's dead," I elaborate, eyes still closed. I know that if I open them, the tears will flow. "But it doesn't  _do_  anything for me. He still took me to Faerie. Did..." My throat closes up, and Jessa makes a small, comforting noise. One of her hands comes to rest on my knee, and I push through the blockage in my throat. "He took me away and he did what he did, and it wasn't until after that it happened. 

       He took so much from me, and I barely managed to scrape together even a little bit of what I used to have. I couldn't even walk with you guys when you went to the Seelie Court, and I can't even say his name. It hurt then, it hurts now, and I feel like it always will hurt." 

       Jessa lets out one slow breath, hand on my knee leaving. Then the weight of Zadkiel in my lap leaves and I'm pulled into a tight hug. 

       "You're right," I hear Jessa say. The side of her face is pressed against my bicep, and I can feel her face move as she shapes the words in her mouth. "I don't think that what he did to you is ever going to go away." She pauses, hugs me tighter. "But he only wins if you do this to yourself. Tell yourself that you'll never be able to be who you were before. Nobody wants you to be who you were before, Jak. We just want you to feel like you're safe.

       Because you are. You'll always be safe, and you'll always be loved, no matter what happened to you in the past. You have Magnus, you've got Raphael, Ragnor, Catarina, Jace. You've got me. And you've even got Alec, Izzy, Clary and Simon." Jessa pulls away, and I open my eyes. Spot dance in my vision for a few seconds before I blink them away. 

       "I think that you should tell him," my twin says. "Jace, I mean. He needs to know." She tilts her head, and I can see a few strands of orange through the glamour. "And maybe it's not today. Not now. Maybe it's tomorrow. Or a week from now. Or a month. Or a year." She smiles. "All you need to know now is that one day you'll be ready. And I'm gonna be there for you when you are." 

       Silence for a few minutes. Then I grin. 

       "That's probably the most you've said since you were five," I joke. 

       "Asshole," Jessa mutters, punching me in the arm.


	3. Chapter 3

** JESSA **

       By the time Jak and I make it out of the back room where we'd be sleeping, conversation has trailed off and Jace quickly takes the opportunity to leave, muttering an excuse about changing. Might not be an excuse, actually. He's pretty fucking grubby. Earendil looks unruffled, but I have a feeling that the silence in the room is bothering him too. Jak sprawls across the couch that Jace had deserted, and I move his legs, replacing them on top of my lap when I sit down. 

       Sebastian's eyes are glued to the two of us, some sort of curious spark flickering in them. I don't know whether to be flattered or apprehensive. Jak keeps on stealing glances at the dark-haired boy, and I have to stifle a grin.

       "Oh, god, he's hot," Jak mumbles, more to himself than me. I clap a hand over my mouth to keep myself from laughing, and my twin rolls his eyes at me. I shrug. 

       "I guess so, but the question is if he's gay," I mutter back. 

       "My gaydar is shit, you tell me." 

       "My money's on bi," I whisper to my twin, just as Alec sits down. 

       "It's about an hour and a half until sunrise," my  _parabatai_ mutters to me. I nod discreetly as I give Jak a gentle shove off of the couch. He rolls with it, ketting himself fall to the floor with an exaggerated cry of surprise. 

       Still, it has the desired effect, because Jak goes to sit on the same couch as Sebastian, folding one leg underneath him so that all I can see of his leg is his foot and thigh. 

       Isabelle isn't downstairs, so I assume that she's still upstairs with Simon. Raph's going to be a little jealous when I tell him. Scratch that, a lot jealous. 

       While my oldest vampire friend did make sure to take care of the newest fledglings, I'd never seen him this invested in one. And I'd never seen him act this nice to one, either. 

~~~~~

       Nine hours later, and I'm leaning up against the wall outside of Simon's room. Jak is still downstairs, which is most likely due to a certain dark-haired boy by the name of Sebastian. I'm slightly impressed. I'd been driven out of the room when Conan, the asshole rep from the Clave had come back with Maryse, but I'd heard them leaving with Jia. 

       I look up when Jace comes up the stairs, and my blonde  _parabatai_  grins wryly. 

       "I think Jak's taken a liking to Sebastian," he comments, opening the door to the room beside me. 

       "It doesn't hurt," I hear Simon say. I immediately perk up, peering into the room. 

       "But my eyes do," Jace comments, _amusement_  and a little bit of _shock_  floating through the bond. I raise an eyebrow at the two. Isabelle is leaning over Simon, fingers brushing along a thin strip of exposed skin. Isabelle pulls the vampire's shirt down quickly, practically jumping away from him. 

       "Molesting the vampire while he's too weak to fight back, Iz?" Jace continues. "I'm pretty sure that violates at least one of the Accords." 

       "I'm just showing him where he got stabbed," the ravenette protests. She scoots her chair back hastily as she speaks. "What's going on downstairs?" the Lightwood asks. "Is everyone still freaking out?" All of the  _amusement_  fades from the bond, and Jace straightens up, moving into the room a little so that I can lean against the doorway. 

       "Maryse has gone up to the Gard with Conan. The Clave's in session and Malchi thought it would be better if she... explained in person." 

       "Explained what?" Simon asks, looking monumentally confused. Isabelle, Jace and I all exchange looks. 

       "You," I finally reply. "Jace bought a vampire into Alicante, which is very, very, very against the Law."

       "To Alicante?" Simon repeats, pale face getting even paler (if that's even possible). "We're in Alicante?" He moves to get up, but quickly doubles over, gasping. 

       "Simon!" Izzy exclaims, reaching out in surprise. "Are you all right?"

       "Go away, Isabelle," Simon says weakly. His hands are in fists, pressing against his stomach where the Forsaken had stabbed him. He's looking at Jace, and when he speaks I can see a little fang. "Make her go." Isabelle looks hurt, backing away with a frown on her face.  

       "Fine. I'll go. You don't have to tell me twice." She brushes past me without making eye contact, slamming the door closed. 

       Jace turns back to Simon, and I can feel a little bit of  _guilt_  and  _worry_ , that I suspect is directed towards the vampire, through the bond. But, exactly like Valentine had taught him (and Jak and me), his face reveals no emotion. 

       "What's going on? I thought you were healing?" the blonde asks, tone giving a little of that  _worry_  away. I cross the room to sit in the chair at the vampire's bedside, but Simon throws a hand out to stop me. 

       "It's not Isabelle," he grinds out from behind gritted teeth. "I'm not hurt—I'm just... hungry." A little color is coming to Simon's cheeks, which I suppose is a vampire's version of a blush if they don't have enough blood in them. "I lost blood, so—I have to replace it."

       I frown. 

       "I gave you my blood," I say, peering at the vampire. Jace raises an eyebrow. 

       "You gave him your blood?" he asks incredulously. "Your blood that Valentine experimented with?" I cross my arms defensively. 

       "You gave him your blood!"

       "When he was dying!"

       "He was dying then!" 

       Jace groans, running a hand through his hair. 

       "Whatever. Point is, don't feed it to him again because it obviously didn't work, did it?" I roll my eyes, but my shoulders slump in acquiescence. Jace smirks, unzipping his jacket. 

       "No!" Simon exclaims, shrinking back into the bed. "I don't care how hungry I am. I'm not... drinking you blood... again." Jace's mouth twists. 

       "We just went over that we're not feeding you our blood ever again unless you're dying," he says, reaching into an inside pocket and withdrawing a clear flask half-full of a watery red-brown liquid. "I thought you might need this," he explains. "I squeezed the juice out of a few pounds of raw meat in the kitchen. It was the best I could do." 

       The blonde makes to hand over the flask, but upon seeing how badly Simon's hand are shaking he decided to unscrew the top before handing it to the vampire. As soon as the flask is in his hands, the brunette tips his head back and gulps it down like it's one particularly large shot. 

       He makes a face once it's gone. 

       "Ugh. Dead blood." Jace raises an eyebrow. 

       "Isn't all blood dead?"

       "The longer the blood is out of a body, the worse it tastes," I explain flatly. Simon and Jace both look at me weirdly. I shrug. "Raphael tells me things." 

       "So I'm in Idris," Simon says once both he and Jace have regained the capabilites of speech and motion. 

       "Alicante, to be specific," Jace corrects, always one to point out the vampire's mistakes. "The capital city. The only city, really." The blonde strides over to the window and draws back the curtains. "Jia didn't believe Iz or Jess," he says. "That the sun wouldn't bother you. She put these blackout curtains up. but you should look." 

       With the help of the blood, Simon's able to rise from bed this time, and I trail him to the window. Looking out is a stab to the gut, because the last time I'd seen this view was when the Clave was deciding what to do with Jace, Jak and me. 

       The Penhallows' house is built on a hill, and I can see uneven mountains behind hills, dusted with snow. The hills surround woods, which are turning red and orange and yellow as they prepare to shed their leaves. The Penhallows' house is opposite another house, the narrow street between them halved by a canal that's crossed by bridges every so often. 

       The part that's the most familiar to me, though, were the towers, built out of glass and topped with spires of adamas.

       "Those are demon towers," Jace says on my right. "They control the wards that protect the city. Because of them, no demon can enter Alicante." I let out a sigh, uncrossing my arms and leaning past both boys in order to unlatch the window and push it open. 

       Sucking in a breath of clean, fresh air that you can't get anywhere but here, I let it out almost reluctantly. That was it. The one good thing about the Glass City. The air. The clean, cold air that left no aftertaste in your mouth. 

       The peaceful moment, however, is interrupted by Simon. 

       "Tell me that bringing me here was an accident," the vampire says flatly. I groan, but the brown-haired boy just keeps on going. "Tell me this wasn't somehow all part of you wanting to stop Clary from coming with you." I straighten up, narrowing my eyes at Jace as _surprise_ , _indignance_ , _guilt_  and _exasperation_  pop like firecrackers in my chest. 

       "That's right," my brother says sarcastically. "I created a bunch of Forsaken warriors, had them attack the Institute and kill Madeleine and nearly the rest of us, just so I could keep Clary at home. And lo and behold, my diabolical plan is working." 

       "Well, it is working," Simon says quietly. "Isn't it?"

       "Listen, vampire," Jace snaps. I back away slowly, heading for the door. "Keeping Clary from Idris was the plan. Bringing you here was not the plan. I brought you though the Portal because if I'd left you behind, bleeding and unconscious, you'd bleed to death before Magnus could heal you." 

       "You could have stayed behind with me—"

       "Jessa set off some sort of magical thing that screwed up a lot of things, Magnus' magic being one of them. He probably needed to fix it before he could have any social interaction with anyone. Point is, I saved your life and I broke the Law to do it. Not for the first time, I might add. You could show a little gratitude."

       "Gratitude?" Simon repeats slowly. I've reached the door. "If you hadm't dragged me to the Institute, I wouldn't be here. I never agreed to this." I place my hand on the handle.

       "You did," Jace says as I begin to turn the handle, "when you said you'd do anything for Clary. This is anything." Simon opens his mouth, but there's a knock on the door. I jump away. 

       "Hello?" Isabelle calls from the other side of the wood. "Simon, is your diva momement over? I need to talk to Jace."

       "Come in, Izzy," Jace replies,  _anger_ , _defiance_ , _regret_  and more  _guilt_  weighing the bond down. 

       Izzy enters the room, and I take the opportunity to escape back downstairs. 

       Someone had put some music on that's playing from some sort of invisible speaker. Alec is brooding by the fire, and he's changed into Shadowhunter gear. Aline and Sebastian are on different couches, chatting with Earendil and Jak respectively. 

       I flash Jak a thumbs up from behind the other boy's back as I enter the room, collapsing onto the last couch. Alec looks at me, eyebrows raised, and I shrug.  _Worry_  from his end. There's movement behind me, and I quickly turn to see Isabelle, Jace and Simon enter the room. 

       Everyone stops talking, and just stares for a moment. 

       "Is that the vampire?" Aline finally voices, breaking the awkward silence. "I've never really been this close to a vampire before—not one I wasn't planning to kill, at least." Jak lets out an audible groan, and I look over just in time to see him plant his face in his hands and sink into the cushions. "He's cute, for a Downworlder," Aline adds. 

       "You'll have to forgove her," Sebastian cuts in, glancing at Jak amusedly. "She has the face of an angel and the manners of a Moloch demon." The dark-haired boy gets to his feet, holding his hand out to Simon with a smile. "I'm Sebastian. Sebastian Verlac. And this is my cousin, Aline Penhallow. Aline—"

       "I don't shake hands with Downworlders," Aline says, shrinking back from Simon like he's the Black Plague. "They don't have souls, you know. Vampires." Jak, who had let his hands fall into his lap in order to watch the girl speak, groans once more and covers his face, collapsing into the couch. 

       "Aline—"

       "It's true," the ravenette insists. "That's why they can't see themselves in mirrors, or go in the sun." Simon locks eyes with Aline and steps backwards, straight into the sunlight that's coming in from the window. Aline sucks in a sharp, shocked breath, but says nothing. 

       "So it's true," Sebastian murmurs, awed. Jak is sitting up now. "Isabelle said, but I didn't think—"

       "That Jessa and Isabelle were telling the truth?" Jace cuts in. "They wouldn't lie about something like this. None of us would. Simon's... unqiue." 

       "I kissed him once," Isabelle announces. Aline's eyebrows make an attempt to jump off of her face. 

       "They really let you do whatever you want in New York, don't they?" she says. The tone confuses me, though, because it's almost as if, behind the horrified tone to it there's a little bit of jealousy. "The last time I saw you, Izzy, you wouldn't even have considered—"

       "The last time we all saw each other, Izzy was eight," Alec says,  _defensiveness_  flaring up in the bond. "Things change. Now, Mom had to leave here in a hurry, so someone has to take her notes and records up to the Gard for her. I'm the only one who's eighteen, so I'm the only one who can go while the Clave's in session." 

       "We know," Isabelle says, rolling her eyes as she flops down next to me. "You've already told us that, like, five time." A brief flicker of  _irritation_  flames up from Alec, but it's gone almost as soon as it pops into existence. 

       "Jace, you brought the vampire here, so you're in charge of him. Don't let him go outside." I raise an eyebrow at Alec in an attempt to catch his eye, because, really? 'The vampire'? The vampire had saved his life, and Alec had nearly been on friendly (ish) terms with Simon and now he's just 'the vampire'.

       "That's what you brought me down here to tell me?" Simon asks irately, obviously on the same train of thought as me. "Don't let the vampire go outside? I wouldn't have done that anyway."

       Jace crosses the room, sliding onto the couch on Aline's other side. The ravenette looks unbothered by this. 

        "You'd better hurry up to the Gard and back," the blonde says. "God knows what depravity we might get up to here without your guidance." And I can feel Alec's  _pain_ , his desire to feel useful to someone after a lifetime of his father telling him that he's not good enough. 

       "Try to hold it together," Alec replies, and my heart breaks at how easily he seems to remain unfazed by my brother's remarks. "I'll be back in half an hour." He turns, vanishing down the hallway. 

       Somewhere in the distance, the door clicks shut and every bit of me hurts for my  _parabatai_. 

       "You shouldn't bait him," Izzy says, shooting Jace a look. "They did leave him in charge." I glance at my brother, raising an eyebrow at him as my gaze darts to Aline's shoulder, pressed against his, then back to his eyes. Try to take my mind off of Alec. 

       "Did you ever think that in a past life, Alec was an old woman with ninety cats who was always yelling at the neighbordhood kids to get off her lawn? Because I do," Jace says, ignoring my look. Aline giggles. I frown. "Just because he's the only one who can go to the Gard—"

       "What's the Gard?" Simon asks. 

       Jace turns to look at him, expression far from the slightly-concerned one he'd had when he'd been talking to Simon with just me in the room. His hand has moved over Aline's on her thigh. 

       "Sit down," he says, jerking his head towards an armchair squished in between two of the couches. "Or did you plan to hover in the corner like a bat?" Simon obeys, but he looks largely uncomfortable. 

       "The Gard is the official meeting place of the Clave," Sebastian explains when Jace doesn't make any move to elaborate. "It's where the Law is made, and where the Consul and Inquisitor reside. Only adult Shadowhunters are allowed onto its grounds when the Clave is in session."

       "In session?" Simon echoes. "You mean—not because of me?" Sebastian laughs, and Jak's eyes get this mushy quality to them. Oh, great. Here's another boy that I'm going to have to listen to him gush about. 

       "No," Sebastian says. "Because of Valentine and the Mortal Instuments. That's why everyone's here. To discuss what Valentine's going to do next." Jace's expression tightens at the word Valentine, and Jak shifts, tucking his feet under him. 

       "Well, he'll go after the Mirror," Simon says, looking surprised. "The third of the Mortal Instruments, right? Is it here in Idris? Is that why everyone's here?" 

       "The thing about the Mirror is that no one knows where it is," Isabelle explains. "In fact, no one knows what it is." 

       "It's a Mirror," Simon says, an 'uh, duh' expression on his face. "You know—reflective, glass. I'm just assuming." 

       "What Isabelle means is that nobody knows anything about the Mirror," Sebastian explains. "There are multiple mentions of it in Shadowhunter histories, but no specifics about where it is, what it looks like, or, most important, what it does."

       "We assume Valentine wants it, but that doesn't help much, since no one's got a clue where it is. The Silent Brothers might have an idea, but Valentine killed them all. There won't be more for at least a little while." 

       "All of them?" Simon asks, shocked. "I thought he only killed the ones in New York." I raise my hands to sign at the same time as Isabelle opens her mouth, but lower them when I remember that I haven't applied a speak in tongues rune. 

       "The Bone City isn't really in New York," the Lightwood explains. "It's like—remember the entrance to the Seelie Court, in Central Park?" Jak stiffens. "Just because the entrace is there doesn't mean the Court itself is under the park. It's the same with the Bone City. There are various entrances, but the City itself—"

       Aline shushes Isabelle, and the ravenette quickly obeys with a guarded expression. I'm half-annoyed, half-relieved. On one hand, Isabelle had already explained the concept to Simon and confirmed that it applied to the Bone City before she'd stopped talking. On the other, any talk about the Seelie or Unseelie Court, the land of Faerie or the fae in general made Jak uncomfortable, so it's a good thing Isabelle isn't talking about it. 

       "So—what's it like, being a vampire?" Aline finally asks, breaking the tense silence. 

       "Aline!" Isabelle exclaims, looking horrified. "You can't just go around asking people what it's like to be a vampire!" 

       "I don't see why," the other girl replies. "He hasn't been a vampire that long, has he? So he must remember what it was like being a person." She turns back to the vampire in question. "Does blood still taste like blood to you? Or does it taste like something else now, like orange juice or something? Because I would think the taste of blood would—"

       "It tastes like chicken," Simon announces, cutting off Aline's rambling.

       "Really?" the ravenette asks. I snort. 

       "He's making fun of you, Aline," Sebastian says, smothering a smile of his own. "As well he should," the dark-haired boy adds. "I apologize for my cousin again, Simon. Those of us who were brought up outside Idris tend to have a little more familiarity with Downworlders." 

       "But weren't you brought up in Idris?" Isabelle asks. Jak slashes his hand across his throat with wide eyes. "I thought your parents—" 

       "Isabelle," Jace interrupts, having spotted Jak's attempts to cut the Lightwood off. Too late, though; Sebastian's expression has darkened. 

       "My parents are dead," he says. It's a bit wooden, almost like an ingrained response. "A demon nest near Calais—it's all right; it was a long time ago," he adds, lifting a hand to wave away Isabelle's apologies. "My aunt—my father's sister—brought me up at the Institute in Paris." 

       "So you'd speak French, right?" Jak asks, leaning forwards. "I can understand it, but never really had the time to learn it properly." 

       "I also speak Russian and Italian. And some Romanian," Sebastian admits, turning his head to glance are Jak coyly. Oh yeah, definitely bi. "I could teach you some phrases—" 

       "Romanian?" Jace cuts in, posture relaxed but eyes molten gold. "That she impressive. Not many people speak it." 

       "Do you?" Sebastian asks, interest in his tone but defensiveness in his posture. Not much, but enough. 

       "Not really," Jace says, smiling so charmingly that it's so obviously a lie. "My Romanian is pretty much limited to useful phrases like, 'Are these snakes poisonous?' and 'But you look much too young to be a police officer.'" 

       Sebastian's face doesn't give away any reaction, but something about it bugs me. I frown, shaking my head mentally. It's just because Jak is the type to fall hard and fast and maybe I'm worried. 

       "I do like traveling," Sebastian finally says. "But it's good to be back, isn't it?" Jace freezes, then glances up at the dark-haired boy. 

       "What do you mean?" 

       "Just that there's nowhere else quite like Idris, however much we Nephilin might make homes for ourselves elsewhere. Don't you agree?" 

       "Why are you asking me?" Jace asks, gaze as hard as ice.  _Suspicion, sadness, regret_  and  _wistfulness_  are floating through the bond. "Why not Jessa?" The blonde smiles pleasantly. "Why not Jakkie-boy there?" 

       Sebastian shrugs, not revealing anything more than Jace is. Jak looks between the two, then at me, eyes wide. I shake my head subtly, gesturing to myself. My twin nods. 

       "Well, you lived here as a child, didn't you? Jak and Jessa weren't here as long as you. Besides, it's been years since you've been back. Or did I get that wrong?" Jace's golden eyes slide over to me, then flick towards Jak.  _Suspicion,_ a hint of  _betrayal_. I shake my head. The  _betrayal_  fades away. 

       "You didn't get it wrong," Isabelle interrupts. "Jace likes to pretend that everyone isn't talking about him, even when he knows they are."

       "They certainly are," Sebastian replies, face loose and open.  _Anger_  is bubbling up through the bond, and I try to send a wave of  _calm_. Doesn't seem to work, because now Jace is flat-out glaring. "These days in Idris it's all anyone talks about. You, the Mortal Instrumentd, your father, your cousins, your sister—"

       "Clarissa was supposed to come with you, wasn't she?" Aline cuts in. "I was looking forward to meeting her. What happened?" Jace pulls away from Aline, and Jak shifts uncomfortably. Earendil moves for the first time since the conversation began. 

       "She didn't want to leave New York," the blonde says. "Her mother's ill in the the hospital."  _Regret_  and  _guilt_  bloom, but they're quickly cut down. 

       "It's weird," Isabelle muses. "I really thought she wanted to come."

       "She did," Simon blurts out. "In fact—"

       Jak's eyes widen, and Jace shoots to his feet with unnatural speed. 

       "Come to think of it, I have something I need to discuss with Simon. In private." He jerks his head at a set of double doors on the wall next to the entrance to the kitchen. "Come on, vampire," he says. His tone is dangerous, but it wouldn't be detectable to anyone who doesn't know Jace. His emotions are muted, and I have a faint suspicion that it's on purpose. 

       "Let's talk."


	4. Chapter 4

**JAK**

       Watching Jace and Simon leave the room makes my anxiety spike to the rooftops, but Jessa manages to lock eyes with me from across the room. And the look in her eyes is steely and determined behind the brown contacts, and I know that whatever happens she'll always be by my side.

       Now that Sebastian and Jace aren't baiting each other anymore, though, the room is left in an awkward silence. It's broken by a certain bespectacled Lightwood stomping into the room in a huff. A small smile tugs at my mouth, because even if he's being raised as a warrior, Max can still manage to act like the child he truly is.

       "Hey, kiddo," I say, letting the smile take over. "Where were you?" I'd like to think that Max's surly expression diminished a little at my words.

       "Jace kicked me out because he said that he had to talk about important grown up stuff," the boy huffs, making air quotes around the words "grown up". I might have been affectionate towards the kid before, but that sealed the deal. This kid isn't awesome. Fuck not getting involved.

       "Well, you can join us in here because we're all bored," I declare. Jessa raises an eyebrow. I ignore her, scooting over so that Max can plop down on my other side. The close proximity to Sebastian makes my heart pound a little faster and my hands heat to a little over comfortable temperatures, but I do my best to ignore it as I focus on Max.

       "You hungry?" I ask. The youngest Lightwood shrugs, and Aline jumps to her feet.

       "I can go make some snacks," she suggests. Max nods hesitantly. Earendil's eyes are boring into me from the couch beside me. Still, I have to glance over, and I'm not sure whether or not to be glad I do. As Aline makes to walk past the merman, he reaches out and taps her elbow gently.

       The Penhallow jumps, but leans down to listen to what Earendil is saying. When Aline straightens up, she gives the mer an appraising look before retreating back into the kitchen. A beat of silence.

       "Do Shadowhunters usually just sit around and stare at each other, or is this a special occasion?" Earendil asks, one elegant blue eyebrow lifted. A corner of Sebastian's mouth quirks up in a grin, but Isabelle is the first to speak.

       "I think we all need some wine to loosen up," she says casually. Jessa rolls her eyes and Sebastian shrugs, not bothering to disagree with the ravenette.

       "Lucky for you, I can hear you from the kitchen," Aline declares, entering the room with a tray stocked full of bread, cheese, apples and slices of cake. There's a bottle of wine balanced on one end of the tray, and a stack of cups on the other.

       Isabelle quickly leaps to her feet, relieving Aline of the wine and uncorking it expertly as she returns to her seat. The other girl bends down to place the tray on the low table in between the couches before straightening up. There's conflict in her eyes, that I can clearly see as they dart back and forth between Earendil and Jessa. I sigh, before nudging Max off of the couch.

       "Grab a piece of cake," I tell him. "Go talk to Earendil. He's not as scary as he looks." Max grins, and Earendil glares.

       "I was not assigned to protect you just to end up entertaining children," the merman hisses. I grin.

       "Technically Max isn't really a child," I point out. And then the youngest Lightwood is back with a slice of cake and settling down beside the merman. I throw Earendil a thumbs up before turning away to talk to Sebastian, something that makes my palms heat up once more.

~~CoMmErCiAl bReAk~~

      When Jace and Simon renter the room, I've moved over a couch to sit next to Earendil, Max has secluded himself in a corner, Isabelle is chatting with Sebastian and Aline is seated beside Jessa, the two of them steadfastly ignoring each other.

       Simon joins Max in isolation almost as soon as Jace breaks of from to squeeze onto the couch next to Aline. The two are almost instantly in flirt mode, Aline's hand brushing against Jace's wrist as she goes for a slice of apple. Jessa's eyes meet mine screaming 'help', but I simply grin and turn away to annoy Earendil.

       "We're out of wine," Isabelle suddenly declares. I eye Jessa, who looks back at me with an innocent face. "I'm going to get some more."

       The ravenette disappears before anyone else can say a thing, and I glance at Earendil. Checking to make sure no one I see listening, I lean in a bit before I speak.

       "We haven't really had the time to talk, but I think we really should," I whisper. Earendil raises a blue eyebrow.

       "About?" I shift a little so that's I'm closer to the merman than Sebastian. Regretable, but necessary. A quick glance over my shoulder tells me that the dark-haired boy is talking with Simon.

       "Why exactly did the Queen tell you to protect me?" I ask bluntly. "She did her part, as twisted as it was, and she knows that I'm done dealing with the fae. So, what's the real reason?" Earendil's face is unreadable.

       "The Queen caught wind of your heritage after Abraxos' trial," the mer admits calmly. "My lady deemed it wise for us to keep both you and your twin under a watchful eye for the time in which you would manifest. Once you did, my Queen commanded that you be watched in case your demonic flame shifted too far and unbalanced." I frown.

       "What does 'unbalanced' mean?" I ask.

       "Like I told your twin, your flame is not centered or as easy to tame as others'," Earendil explains patiently. "Worst case, as you mortals have coined it, is that you're flame is broken beyond repair."

       "What does that mean?" I ask quietly. "Broken beyond repair?"

       "It means that one day your innermost flame will grow and consume you in its search for fuel," Earendil says.

       There's a sick feeling in my stomach. It's cold and nasty and rolling my internal organs into funny shapes. But one thing jumps out at me from what Earendil had said. _Like I told your twin._ Jessa had known, she'd known that there was a possibility that I was broken and she hadn't told me.

       Earendil is looking at me with concern, but Jace's voice cuts through my haze loud and clear.

       "De ce crezi cã vã ascultam conversatia?" my brother asks. Romanian. Why do you think I was listening to your conversation? I follow Jace's gaze, which is pinned on a pleasant-looking Sebastian.

       "M-ai urmãrit de când ai ajuns aici," the other boy says. You've been watching me since you got here. I almost glance at Jessa for confirmation, but looking at her makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. "Nu-mi dau seama dacã nu mã placi ori dacã ești atât de bãnuitor cu toatã lumea." I can't tell if you don't like me, or if you're just this suspicious of everyone.

       Sebastian rises with a smile. "I appreciate the Romanian practice, but if you don't mind, I'm going to see what's taking Isabelle so long in the kitchen." He disappears into the kitchen, Jace watching him with a bemused look. It's not often that I see that on Jace, so something about that conversation must have been off.

       "What's wrong?" Simon pipes up. "Does he not speak Romanian after all?"

       "No," Jace replies, frowning. "No, he speaks it all right." I'm about to try and catch Jessa's eye, because by the Angel we need to talk, but Alec walks in before I can. I don't miss his frown, or the way that his gaze lingers on Simon with a little bit of confusion. I sneak a glance at my twin, whose brow is furrowed.

       "Back so soon?" Jace asks, looking up.

       "Not for long," his _parabatai_ replies, taking a slice of apple. "I just came back to get him," he adds, gesturing at Simon, sat awkwardly in the corner, with the apple slice. "He's wanted at the Gard."

       "Really?" Aline asks, tone surprised. Jace rises, untangling himself from her. Another glance at Jessa shows her almost comically relieved expression.

       "Wanted for what?" Jace asks in that deadly calm tone that Jessa uses when she's mad. "I hope you found that out before you promised to deliver him, at least."

       "Of course I asked," Alec snaps back. "I'm not stupid." Quiet footsteps.

       "Oh, come on," Isabelle says, appearing in the doorway. Sebastian is next to her, holding the bottle of wine the Lightwood had initially gone to fetch. "Sometimes you are a bit stupid, you know." If looks could kill, Isabelle would be six feet under. "Just a bit," Izzy adds.

       "They're sending Simon back to New York," Alec says stiffly. "Through the Portal."

       "But he just got here!" Isabelle exclaims, pouting. "That's no fun."

       "It's not supposed to be fun, Izzy," Alec says in a tone that seems to be weighed down with years of telling his little sister no. "Simon coming here was an accident, so the Clave thinks the best thing is for him to go home." Something in my stomach twists, because that's what the Clave had said about Jessa and me when they'd planned to send us to the Silent Brothers.

       That the best thing they could do for us was find us a home.

       "Great," Simon says. "Maybe I'll even make it back before my mother notices I'm gone. What's the time difference between here and Manhattan?"

       "You have a mother?" Aline asks, unnecessarily amazed.

       "Seriously," Simon insists, ignoring both Aline and the weighted looks that pass between Alec and Jace, charging the room with tension. "It's fine. All I want is to get out of this place."

       "You'll go with him?" Jace finally says. Jessa is looking at Alec too, and he's looking back. "And make sure everything's all right?"

       "What?" the vampire asks, looking back and forth between the trio. "What's wrong?"

       The three-way staring contest breaks off, Alec looking away, Jessa dropping her own gaze and Jace turning to smile blandly at the vampire in question.

       "Nothing," the blonde says. "Everything's fine. Congratulations, vampire—you get to go home."

~~iNtErMiSsIoN~~

_**A/N: Some triggering content up ahead. Mentions of rape. You have been warned.** _

       Jessa had gone to bed, the exhaustion from the past three days catching up with her no matter how much coffee she had drank, and the worry in her eyes had prompted me to follow Jace outside to wait for Alec.

       As I do, though, I mull over what Jessa had told me earlier. About how I didn't have to tell him until I was ready. That it didn't matter when I was ready, that she'd always be by my side. That, even if he didn't know, Jace would be by my side. Part of me wonders if the reason I'm even considering this is because I feel like, after all we've been through, I owe Jace something.

       I shake my head mentally. I'm doing this for me. Because I'm ready. Or as ready as I'll ever be, I suppose.

       Jace settles on a low stone wall, and I hesitate a beat before sitting close enough for our arms to brush.

       We sit in silence for a good while before I finally manage to open my mouth.

       "Jessa told me that you were asking about Agramon," I say quietly. Jace immediately stiffens.

       "Jak, I really am sorry, it's just that—"

       "Nah, s'all right," I say, cutting the blonde off. "Um. Jess and I, we talked bit. She told me that facing down Agramon was a big step for me. And now that I think about it, I think she's right. That facing down that demon in his—Abraxos' form opened new doors. Specifically... talking about what happened with him."

       "You shouldn't talk about it if you don't want to," Jace protests, frowning. I shake my head, looking at a point just to the right of his ear.

       "I need to, and if I start and stop then nothing's gonna come out." My hands twist together in my lap. "I, uh, I guess it all really started at this club. Ember Solstice."

**A/N: Jak is telling this story in his own words, but I'm not very good at spacing stories told by characters out, so this is all written like it's happening**

_ *Flashback Begins* _

        _I'm dancing. Some sort of techno remix of some pop song is blaring from the speakers. I've got a drink in one hand and a cute guy smiling at me._

        _And then I'm almost knocked on my ass by someone._

       As it is, I barely manage to pivot, planting my foot and righting myself. My drink soaks my hand, and I swear, moving out of the way of an advancing assailant.

       _The person who'd crashed into me is getting to their feet quickly, ducking under a punch gracefully. The dance floor has cleared by now, giving the two plenty of room to fight._

       In the flashing strobe lights, I can only be sure of three things.

        _One, the person—a man—who had crashed into me was one of the gentry fae._

       Two, the assailant was a werewolf.

       And three, nobody was going to be able to stop those two except me.

       The faerie darts around the werewolf, putting the crowd to his front and to the werewolf's back, and impish grin on his face. I sigh, handing my drink to the nearest person.

       "Hey!" I yell, striding forwards. Both Downworlders look at me in surprise. "Maybe take the fight somewhere where other people" —my eyes dart around to the crowd— "won't get hurt." A pointed glare at the both of them.

       "Stay out of this," the werewolf growls. I can see him begin to say 'Shadowhunter', before remembering that we're in a club full of mundanes.

       "I can't if you're going to do this in front of everyone here," I reply firmly. I let one hand drift to my belt, as if I had a weapon hidden underneath my shirt. The werewolf's eyes flick from my hand to my face.

        _With an aggravated huff, the werewolf stalks away, shoulder smashing into the faerie's as he passes by._

       The crowd quickly recovers, reconvening on the dance floor, and the flood of people pushes me to the faerie.

       It's only now that I get a good look at him, and I nearly choke on my saliva. Coppery hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, exposing his ears (I have to concentrate a little to see through the glamour and see the pointy tips), which have at least three piercings each. Deep purple eyes look back at me, and his soft-looking lips are curled up into a grin.

       He's tall, taller than me. It's a little unusual to have to look up at someone, but the view certainly makes up for that. He's slender, dressed in jeans that seem to be painted on and a leather jacket over a shirt with the sleeves chopped off, some sort of band logo emblazoned on the front.

       "What's a Shadowhunter like you doing in a club like this?" the faerie finally yells. I grin, hips moving to the beat of the new song.

       "I'm not actually a Shadowhunter!" I yell back. The faerie hums, body beginning to move.

        _"The Sight?"_

        _I nod._

        _"Well, mundane, my name is Abraxos," the Downworlder calls. "And I was wondering if you'd like a drink." I smile._

        _"You did make me spill my other one."_

_ *Flashback Ends* _

       "He made me feel special," I admit quietly. "Made me feel like I was a king. Made me feel loved." I laugh bitterly. "It was all a pile of shit in the end, though. He was using me, and in the end he dragged me into Faerie, fucked me up with some sort of Unseelie drug and did what he wanted with me." Jace has gone very, very still next to me.

       "It felt like years," I continue, tilting over ever-so-slightly so that I'm halfway leaning on my cousin. "But by the time Jess and Mags got me out—Jace, it was three days." I let myself slump over sideways, using Jace as a support. "The Seelie Queen took the memories away, but every year they come back on the same day she took them." I wave a hand vaguely. "Nothing comes without a price," I half-yell, nearly hysterical.

      There are tears welling up in my eyes, and as much pain as the memories bring back for me, there's something in me that feels so much lighter.

       Jace's arm snakes around my shoulders, pulling me in for a firm side hug.

      "I don't care about what happened to you," he begins softly. "Nothing you just told me could change the way that I see you. You might just be my cousin, but you're a brother to me." A pause. "But..." I stiffen ever-so-slightly. Jace sighs. Runs a hand through his hair.

       "Nobody from the Clave was notified of a faerie related disappearance?" he finally asks. I release a breath that I didn't realize I was holding.

       "No," I say quietly. "I wouldn't have alerted them if it was Jessa—I'm glad that she didn't, actually." Jace breathes in slowly, then huffs it out in one harsh exhale. Runs a hand though already-tousled hair.

       "I just..." He shakes his head, arm around my shoulders loosening. I sit up, and the blonde lets me go completely. A slow sort of fear is rising in my throat, wrapping its fingers around my throat and squeezing.

       "Just what?" I ask softly. Jace's golden eyes are a little crazed.

       "All this" —he waves a hand around vaguely— "puts everything into persepctive. I missed so much—we've missed so much." He runs a hand through his hair one more time, a habit we both share, inherited from Valentine. "Jak, I missed everything," Jace finishes.

        The strangling fear that had begun mounting dissipates quickly, and I stare at Jace in shock. It's getting darker, and I'm only just noticing as I struggle to make out my cousin's—no, my brother's—features out in slowly-waning light.

       Apparently I take too long to answer, because Jace's shoulders slump and he avoids my eyes.

       "Sorry," he says quietly. Jace. Says sorry. The stubborn-ass boy with hair so blonde I was almost 80% sure it wasn't natural, was saying sorry.

       "For what?" I finally ask, swallowing past the block in my throat.

       "You come out here wanting to talk to me about you, and I make it about me," Jace says, waving a hand listlessly. "That's what."

       Silence.

       "I think," I begin slowly, "that Jessa was right." Jace looks up, surprise written on his face.

       "About?"

       "The fact that we both need help," I reply, smiling wryly.

~~TiMe SkIp~~

       Night falls, and it's only then that Jace and I spot Alec walking down the street. The others inside has lit candles and placed them in the windows, and the door is cracked open a bit, letting light spill out onto the walkway. Earendil lurks in the shadows of the doorway. He hasn't made any move to come closer, but it still feels like he's breathing down my neck.

       It's getting colder, and neither Jace or I had been smart enough to grab a few extra layers before coming outside. But Jace doesn't go in to grab a jacket, so neither did I. Alec approaches, sitting down on Jace's other side.

       "Have you two been out here waiting for me all this time?" The question stirs up a memory from last week. Jesse, waiting out in the cold on Luke's front porch. The same question asked by Jace, returning after a night on Valentine's ship.

       "Who says we're waiting for you?" Jace retorts.

       "It went fine, if that's what you were worried about," Alec says calmly. "I left Simon with the Inquisitor." I lean forwards.

       "You didn't make sure that they sent him through a Portal?" I ask incredulously.

       "It was fine," Alec says once again. "The Inquisitor said he'd take him inside personally and send him back to—"

       "The Inquisitor said, the Inquisitor said," Jace cuts in. "The last Inquisitor we met completely exceeded her command—if she hadn't died, the Clave would have relieved her of her position, maybe even cursed her. What's to say this Inquisitor isn't a nut job too?"

       "He seemed all right," the Lightwood says. "Nice, even. He was perfectly polite to Simon. Look, Jace, Jak—this is how the Clave works. We don't get to control everything that happens. But you have to trust them, because otherwise everything turns into chaos." I snort.

       "It's already chaos," I say scathingly. "They've fucked up, and I don't think I want to trust them after that."

       "Maybe, but if you start thinking you know better than the Clave and better than the Law, what makes you any better than the Inquisitor?" Alec reasons. "Or Valentine?" Jace flinches, and my jaw tightens. Alec's expression turns guilty.

       "I'm sorry," he says, reaching out. "I didn't mean that—"

       He's cut off when the warm glow from the Penhallows house suddenly widens, and the three of us look over to see Isballe framed in the open door, Earendil lurking just behind her.

       "What are you three doing out here?" she calls, annoyance coloring her tone. Her hands are on her hips, like a disappointed mother. "Everyone's wondering where you are."

       "Jace—"

       "You'd better be right about the Clave," the blonde says flatly, ignoring Alec. He stalks back off into the house, and I tuck my arms under my armpits to keep them warm when the door shuts, letting the darkness come back.

       "Magnus misses you," I say quietly. Anything to avoid talking about what had just happened. Alec looks up, surprised. "You didn't get to have a proper goodbye back at the Institute," I persist. "Maybe it's time you wrote him a fire message or something." The raven-haired boy hesitates.

       "Are you sure?" he asks. His insecurity is obvious, and for a brief second I want to hug him tight and make it all go away, because that was me when I was first discovering my sexuality.

       "I think that he'd like it," I reply vaguely. I know better. I know that he'll be ecstatic, because Alec is the one thing that I have seen make Magnus this happy since… Well, since forever.

       Alec is nodding slowly, and I smile as I get to my feet.

       "I've gotta take care of something," I say. _Like I told your sister_ is looping around in my head again. "Come inside when you're done. I think there's cake."


	5. Chapter 5

** JESSA **

      I wake up to Jak's face a little less than two inches away from me. He draws back and claps a hand over my mouth before I can scream, and I let out a massive breath of air through my nose. My twin quirks an eyebrow, and I nod. He pulls his hand away.

      "What's the fucking time?" I hiss, glancing out the window. It's still dark.

      "One something," Jak replies in a whisper. "But this is important."

      "What's so important that you have to wake me up at one in the morning?" I snap. Something dark flickers through my silver and black-haired twin's bicolored eyes before they clear again.

      "I was talking to Earendil today," he says.

      "Bonding with the bodyguard?" I quip. "That's cute."

      "Shut up and let me finish, Jess, this is important," Jak whispers irately. I mime zipping my lips and throwing the key away. "Earendil told me something," my twin continues. "About my fire. That my 'inner flame', or whatever the fuck it's called, is unbalanced. And that if it's unbalanced, then that means that it has the potential to consume me in its search for fuel."

      I can practically feel all the color drain from my face.

      "Did you know that, Jess?" Jak asks. His silver eye is glinting in the light of the moon that's spilling through the open window. "Jess, did you know?" I move a hand vaguely, trying to find my words.

      "I-I knew that your flame was—was fucked up," I say, searching desperately for the right thing to say. "But I didn't know that it had the potential to kill you!" Jak sits back, surprise written on his face.

      "Earendil said you knew," he whispers. I shake my head.

      "I only knew the first part."

      A long silence. Then Jak leans forwards again.

      "If I ever lose control, I want you to kill me," he says firmly. My spine straightens, and I shake my head furiously.

      "Jak, that's—"

      "Can you guarantee me that I will never, ever, in my entire life, lose control of these powers?" my twin says sharply. My mouth clicks shut, and I slump in defeat.

      "I'm not going to kill you," I say quietly. "I'm going to find a way to contain you and your powers."

      "And how long would that take?" Jak asks shrewdly. "What if there's no way to contain me?"

      "There will be," I say firmly.

      "Jessa, even if you did find a way to contain me, the time it took would endanger other people," my twin reasons. I don't need a _parabatai_ bond to tell me that Jak's heart is breaking. "I don't want to hurt others with my powers like Valentine wants me to." My vocal cords are locked up tight, so instead of words I reach out and grip Jak's hands tight in my own.

      Because I will never let him go. And I will not make that promise.

~~eNd ScEnE~~

      Morning comes, and I'm awoken by some sort of bell ringing throughout the house.

      "I'll get it!" Isabelle yells. I can hear someone running down the hall.

      Now wide awake, I sit up and stretch. Jak's still sleeping over on his bed. I don't remember him moving, but I suppose it was sometime after I'd fallen asleep on him. Swinging my legs out of bed, I grab a hoodie and throw it on, walking down the hallway in a sort of haze—but a bright red head of hair in the doorway gives me a wake up call.

      "Clary?" Isabelle and I say at the same time.

      "Hi, guys," Clary replies weakly. I blink, then rub my eyes to make sure this is real.

      "Fuck," I mutter, coming closer to the door.

      "But you're supposed to be in New York!" It's Isabelle, leaning against the doorjamb with a dark look on her face. She's wearing a nice white dress, hair pinned up. It's a little weird to see her out of her fancy outfits, but this look makes her look younger. "Jace said you'd changed your mind about coming. He said you wanted to stay with your mother!"

      "Jace lied," Clary replies flatly. "He didn't want me here, so he lied to me about when you were leaving, and then lied to you about me changing my mind. Remember when you told me he never lies? That is so not true." The color had been draining from Izzy's face as Clary spoke, and I run my hands through my tangled hair tiredly. A wisp of it gets in my face, and I swear mentally as I realize that it's not glamoured.

      "He normally never does," Izzy says, still pale as a ghost. "Look, did you come here—I mean, does this have something to do with Simon?"

      "With Simon?" Clary asks, surprised. "No. Simon's safe in New York, thank god. Although he's going to be really pissed that he never got to say goodbye to me." Isabelle and I exchange worried looks. "Come on, Isabelle," my cousin presses. "Let me in. I need to see Jace."

      "So… you just came here on your own?" Isabelle asks, confused. "Did you have permission from the Clave? Please tell me you had permission from the Clave."

      "Not as such—"

      I swear out loud this time, lowering my voice to a whisper.

      "By the Angel, Clary, we can't have you breaking Clave Law! That brings the whole damn Council down on our heads, and if Jace finds out he'll flip his shit. There's a reason Jace tried to keep you away, so you need to go home!"

      "No," Clary insists, like a stubborn little toddler. "And I need to talk to Jace."

      "Now is not the best time, Clary," I snap. "Everyone's busy making sure that nothing bad happens while we're here so that the Clave doesn't have another thing to blame on us! Not everything can be about you all the time!" My cousin's eyes are wide, like she isn't used to people telling her to fuck off.

      "Please, just go back to New York," Isabelle pleads. "Please?"

      "I thought you liked me, Izzy," the redhead replies.

      "I do like you," the Lightwood says quickly, biting her lip. "It's just that Jace—oh my god, what are you wearing? Where did you get fighting gear?" My gaze sweeps up and down Clary, and I cross my arms.

      "It's a long story," the redhead says sheepishly, looking down at the Shadowhunter gear she’s wearing.

      "You can't come in here like that," Isabelle hisses. "If Jace sees you—”

      "Oh, so what if he sees me," my cousin snaps. "Isabelle, I can here because of my mother—for my mother. Jace may not want me here, but he can't make me stay home. I'm supposed to be here. My mother expected me to do this for her. You'd do it for your mother, wouldn't you?"

      "Of course I would," the ravenette says. "But Clary, Jace has his reasons—"

      "Then I'd love to hear what they are," Clary cuts in, ducking under Isabelle's arm and into the house. I catch her by the arm, gripping her tightly. In response, she kicks me in my bad leg. A white-hot jolt of pain travels through me, and I let a few choice words slip out. The leg buckles, sending me tumbling to the ground, releasing my cousin.

      She takes the opportunity, sprinting down the hall and into the living room. Isabelle pauses to help me up before hurrying after the redhead.

      "Sebastian!" she calls. "Don't let her go upstairs!" She turns into the living room, and I make my way over slowly, leg cramping every few steps. "Sebastian!" Isabelle is yelling when I finally get into the living room. Her hair has come out of the pins, tumbling down in a dark waterfall. "Don't be nice to her. She's not supposed to be here. Clary, go home."

      "What, back to New York?" Clary snaps, glaring. "And how am I supposed to get there?"

      "How did you get here?" Sebastian asks curiously. "Sneaking into Alicante is quite an accomplishment."

      "I came through a Portal," my cousin replies. I limp forwards, leaning heavily on my right leg.

      "A Portal?" Isabelle asks, astonishment in her voice mirrored perfectly in her expression. "But there isn't a Portal left in New York. Valentine destroyed them both—"

      "I don't owe you any explanations," Clary interrupts. I snort.

      "Yeah you do, midget," I say. "You took out my bad leg on the one day that it didn't feel like shit first thing in the morning."

      "You got in my way," my cousin replies haughtily.

      "Well, you're being a primadonna," I snap scathingly. Clary turns her nose up at me, refocusing on Izzy.

      "Where's Jace?"

      "He's not here," Isabelle says.

      "He's upstairs," Sebastian says at the exact same time.

      "Sebastian!" Isabelle exclaims, rounding on the dark-haired boy.

      "But she's his sister," Sebastian says blankly. "Why wouldn't she want to see him?" The Lightwood's expression shifts rapidly, before hardening all of a sudden.

      "Fine, Clary," she says, voice edged with anger. "Go ahead and do whatever you want, regardless of who it hurts. You always do anyway, don't you?" Clary goes to open her mouth to respond, but I clear my throat pointedly. Without saying another word, she turns towards the stairs and Sebastian steps out of the way.

      I don't stop to watch her retreating back before I sink onto one of the couches with a pained groan. Izzy looks concerned.

      "Do you need anything?"

      "I don't suppose anyone knows where to find a heating pad?" I ask sarcastically. The Lightwood makes a face at me, but doesn't get much farther because Jak chooses that moment to make his entrance. His eyes are still half-closed, and his hair is sticking out in every direction, like he'd stuck his finger into an outlet. The only clothing he has on is a pair of soft joggers.

       Vaguely, I wonder about the whereabouts of his fae bodyguard, but dismiss the thought quickly. Having him around wasn’t that annoying, but overall it was uncomfortable having someone, especially one of the fae, watching you all day.

      "I think we could all do with some coffee," I say. Jack nods sleepily, collapsing onto the couch. I swear softly when he puts his head on my lap, sending a jolt of pain shooting down the bad leg. Even half-awake and in a zombie-like state, Jak gets the signal and sits up quickly. Blinks once. Twice. Thrice.

      "'Whazzapening?"

      "Maybe save the talking for after coffee," I say, patting Jak's arm.

      "Did somebody order room service?" Isabelle asks, walking in with a tray full of coffee. Jak makes weak little grabby hands at the mugs, snatching one and slurping the drink down like it's the only liquid left on earth. Sebastian and Isabelle look on amusedly as I blow on my own mug gently.

      Movement from the staircase, and I crane my neck around just in time to see Aline hurry past, disappearing into the hallway. Her hair is in disarray, and her blouse is buttoned up unevenly. I don’t comment, and even if I’d wanted to I wouldn’t have gotten the chance, because at that moment Alec hurries into the room in a sort of frenzy.

      His dark hair is sticking up every which way, and he’s wearing a long dark blue coat that I’m 90% sure I’ve never seen on him before, boots muddy with bags under his eyes. There’s a profound sense of _weariness_ and _panic_ coming from the bond, and the latter is such a rare thing from Alec that I’m halfway to my feet before I remember the aggravated pain in my leg.

      “Simon is missing,” he blurts out almost immediately. Jak’s bicolored eyes snap into full lucidity all of a sudden, and the mug thuds to the carpeted floor.

      “How do you know?” he asks, voice urgent.

      “I sent a fire message like you told me to, because Inquisitor Aldertree said that Magnus would be meeting Simon at the other end of the Portal. But I just heard back and Magnus hasn’t detected any Portal activity anywhere in New York since we left,” my _parabatai_ explains.

      “Tell Jace,” Jak instructs, brow furrowing. “I’ll call Mags.”

      “Find a shirt while you’re at it,” Isabelle suggests. The joke falls flat on the tense atmosphere, but Jak does look down at his bare chest in bemusement before walking out of the room. Alec hurries past me, and I catch his arm quickly, going up onto my toes, tugging him down a bit in order to reach the taller’s ear.

      Sebastian’s eyes are boring into the back of my head, but I don’t care because this is urgent and maybe, just maybe Imogen Herondale had left me something good in life, because now I’m comfortable talking in front of other people, just not to them.

      “Clary’s here, we don’t know how, but be careful,” I mutter. “And Jace might not take too well to the whole Simon missing thing.” Alec nods once, pulling away and hurrying up the stairs. Isabelle and I exchange looks.

      “That’s not going to go well,” the Lightwood mutters. I nod grimly, setting my mug down on the coffee table. “Should we give him a three-second head start?” I pick up Jak’s mug, shrugging at the other girl. “Yeah, I think we should head up now,” Isabelle decides hastily, hurrying towards the stairs.

      I follow at a more sedate pace, wincing slightly from the pain in my leg. I curse Clary silently, because honestly if it wasn’t for her than none of this would have happened and I would still have two legs to walk on properly.

      “Ah, the ‘I told you so,’” Jace is saying as I walk in. “Always a classy move.”

      “Anything’s classier than you,” I cut in, shutting the door behind me quietly.

      “You’re one to talk,” my brother retorts without missing a beat.

      Clary, who’s standing on one side of the room, closer to me, stares at the blonde in shock.

      “How can you joke?” she whispers. “You just threatened Luke. Luke, who likes you and trusts you. Because he’s a Downworlder. What’s wrong with you?” My eyes meet Jace’s, an eyebrow cocked in a wordless question. He nods, and some of the tension in my shoulder bleeds away.

      “Luke’s here?” Isabelle exclaims, horrified. “Oh, Clary—“

      “He’s not here,” the redhead interrupts. “He left—this morning—and I don’t know where he went. But I can certainly see now why he had to go.” **She’s got it all wrong** , I think privately. **We’re trying to protect the both of them, but she’s too thick-headed to realize it and that might just get them both killed.**

      Clary straightens up, like everyone in the room had personally wronged her.

      “Fine. You win. We should never have come. I should never made that Portal—“

      “Made a Portal?” Isabelle asks, aghast. I kinda want to punch my cousin right now, because she doesn't know how to be careful. “Clary, only a warlock can make a Portal. And there aren’t very many of them. The only Portal here in Idris is in the Gard.”

      “Which is what I have to talk to you about,” Alec jumps in, hissing his words at Jace. “About the errand I went on last night—the thing I had to deliver to the Gard—“

      “Alec, stop,” Jace says, _desperation_ , _heartbreak_ and _regret_ all swimming in my stomach. Alec and I exchange looks, the older boy’s lip caught between his teeth. I shrug helplessly. “Stop,” the blonde repeats, turning to Clary. “You’re right. You should never have come. I know I told you it’s because it isn’t safe for you here, but that wasn’t true. The through is that I don’t want you here because you’re rash and thoughtless and you’ll mess everything up. It’s just how you are, you’re not careful, Clary.”

      “Mess… everything… up?” Clary whispers. A sick sort of _satisfaction_ is squirming in my gut, and it’s not Jace’s and it’s not Alec’s. It’s mine, and it’s ugly and twisted, but most of all I feel that Clary deserves it, to be brought down to earth and to see that _not everything is about her_. Because Jak and I are at risk too, although honestly I couldn’t care less about myself. No, it was Jak who I wanted to stay safe, to keep out of harm’s way.

      “Oh, Jace,” Isabelle says, sadness tainting her words, and I’m not expecting that. Wasn’t anticipating another person to know exactly what Jace was doing: pushing Clary away with harsh words in order to protect her. But then again, Isabelle has lived with my brother for almost seven years.

      “You always just race ahead without thinking,” Jace continues. “You know that, Clary. We’d never have ended up in the Dumort if it wasn’t for you.”

      “And Simon would be dead!” Clary exclaims, face turning an ugly shade of red. “Doesn’t that count for anything? Maybe it was rash, but—“

      “Maybe?” Jace demands, the question coming out in a yell.

      “But it’s not like every decision I’ve made was a bad one!” Clary continues on doggedly. “You said, after what I did on the boat, you said I’d saved everyone’s life—“

      “Clary, shut the fuck up,” I snap. “Don’t say anything else.” **Goddamnit, Jak, where are you?**

      “On the boat?” Alec asks, _confusion_ adding to the odd smoothie of _guilt, panic, desperation_ and _satisfaction_. “What about what happened on the boat? Jace—“

      “I just told you that to keep you from whining!” Jace shouts at full volume, _anger_ surging over me like a wave and drowning everything else out. The emotional impact sends me reeling, struggling to separate my emotions from his.

      “You’re a disaster for us, Clary! You’re a mundane—you’ll always be one; you’ll never be a Shadowhunter, not even like Jessa or Jak. You don’t know how to think like we do, think about what’s best for everyone—all you ever think about is yourself! But there’s a war on now, or there will be, and none of us have the time or the inclination to follow around after you, trying to make sure you don’t get one of us killed!”

      The _anger_ fades quickly, replaced only by _defeat_ and _regret_.

      “Go home, Clary,” my brother says tiredly. “Go home.” My cousin’s face falls, and she turns to the door with shining eyes. **Good** , a viscous part of me thinks. **Maybe this will keep her away, keep her from telling anyone else about what she can do, what Jak can do, what I can do. Maybe this will teach her a lesson, because almost everything Jace had said was true.**

      “When you told me the first time that Valentine was your father, I didn’t believe it,” Clary says coldly, glancing over her shoulder. “Not just because I didn’t want it to be true, but because you weren’t anything like him. I’ve never thought you were anything like him. But you are. You are.”

      The door slams behind her, and the _hurt_ and _regret_ slams into me like a punch to the gut.


	6. Chapter 6

**JAK**

       Clary slams into me on her way out the door, and I step back in surprise. She doesn’t even acknowledge me, hurrying past and out the door.

       “What the fuck?” I mutter, hurrying up the stairs. There are voices coming from behind one of them, so that’s the one I go to.

       “What the hell was that about?” Isabelle is demands of Jace, who’s slumped against the far wall. The blonde shakes his head as I shut the door behind me quietly.

       “I sent her home. It was the best thing for her.”

       “You did a hell of a lot more than send her home,” Isabelle snaps. “You destroyed her. Did you see her face?”

       “It was all true,” Jessa interjects quietly, shrugging. “He did what he had to. And maybe that was bringing her down to earth.”

       “I know,” Izzy says impatiently, “but did he have to do it so harshly?”

       “We tried subtly, which was leaving her behind, but that didn’t work,” I point out.

       “It was worth it,” Jace says decisively.

       “For her, maybe,” the Lightwood girl replies. “I hope it winds up worth it for you.” Jace’s eyes shutter, all emotion leaving his face as he turns away.

       “Just… leave me alone, Isabelle. Please.”

       I raise an eyebrow, because the Jace I know never said please. Isabelle must have had the same thought, because she starts towards the blonde before Alec places a hand on her shoulder.

       “Never mind, Jace,” the dark-haired boy says, exchanging some sort of _parabatai_ look with Jessa. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

       “No, she won’t,” Jace says, lifting his head to stare vacantly at Alec. “But I knew that.”

       “You told  her the truth,” Jessa says, shrugging. “She needs to know that the whole world doesn’t revolve around her.” My brother still seems hesitant, but he shakes his head as if to clear it of cobwebs.

       “You might as well tell me what you came in here to tell me,” the blonde sighs. “You seemed to think ti was pretty important at the time.” Alec’s hand drops from Izzy’s shoulder, and we exchange looks.

       “I didn’t want to tell you in front of Clary—“

       “Didn’t want to tell me what in front of Clary?” Jace demands, golden eyes fully lucid and laser-focused. The Lightwood hesitates, glancing over at Jessa. She nods subtly.

       “Yesterday, when I brought Simon up to the Gard, Malachi told me Magnus Bane would be meeting Simon at the other end of the Portal, in New York. Jak convinced me to send Magnus a fire message, and I heard back this morning. He never met Simon in New York. In fact, he says there’s been no Portal activity in New York since Clary came through.”

       “I checked in with Magnus just now,” I add. “He talked to Cat and every other warlock he knows. No sign of Simon.” Jace’s complexion is grey, face drawn and pale.

       “Maybe Malachi was wrong,” Isabelle suggests uncertainly. “Maybe Magnus was wrong about the Portal activity—“

       “I went up to the Gard this morning with mom,” Alec interjects, shaking his head. “I meant to ask Malachi about it myself, but when I saw him—I can’t say why—I ducked behind a corner. I couldn’t face him. Then I heard him talking to one of the guards. Telling them to bring the vampire upstairs because the Inquisitor wanted to speak to him again.”

       “Are you sure they meant Simon?” Isabelle asks, desperately trying to prove her brother wrong. “Maybe…”

       “They we’re talking about how stupid the Downworlder had been to believe that they’d just send him back to New York without questioning him,” her brother says, voice cold, anger tinting his words. “One of them said that he couldn’t believe anyone had had the gall to try to sneak him into Alicante to begin with. And Malachi said, ‘We’ll, what do you expect from people related to Valentine?’”

       “Oh,” Izzy whispers as the color drains from my face. “Oh my God.” My eyes meet Jace’s from across the room. “Jace…”

       “If it hadn’t been me who brought him through, maybe they would have just let him go home,” Jace says in a low, even tone. His hands are clenched at his side, knuckles white. “Maybe they would have believed—“

       “No,” Alec says immediately. “No, Jace, it’s not your fault. You saved his life—“

       “Saved him so the Clave could torture him,” Jace points out, tone emotionless. “Some favor. When Clary finds out…” The blonde shakes his head. “She’ll think I brought him here on purpose, have him to the Clave knowing what they’d do.”

       “She won’t think that. You’d have no reason to do a thing like that.”

       “Perhaps, but after how I just treated her…”

       “It was the truth, Jace,” Jessa says forcefully, so much conviction pouring into her voice. “You told her the truth, and she doesn’t have a right to be pissy just because you saved her best friend’s life.”

       “Besides, no one could ever think you’d do that, Jace,” Isabelle adds. “No one who knows you. No one—“

       Jace turns away abruptly, walking over to the window overlooking the courtyard. He stands there for a moment, completely still. The light makes his golden hair glow.

       Then he moves, and Alec moves but the sound of glass breaking comes before the ravenette can make it to my brother’s side.

       Glass sprays all across the room, and Jace draws his fist back to stare at his knuckles, now streaked with red that’s dripping down onto the floor.

       “By the Angel,” Jessa murmurs. “This’ll be hell to explain to the Penhallows.”

       “God fucking dammit, Jace,” I mumble.

       “We should get out of here,” Isabelle says nervously. Alec’s shoulders are tense as he brushes past me to open the door.

       “We can go to our room,” the ravenette says. He glances over his shoulder. “Now.”

       Jess is the first to hurry out, tugging a worried Isabelle after her. I stride across the room, gripping Jace by the wrist and pulling him to the door. The blonde doesn’t offer up any resistance, which bugs me a little more than it should.

~~iNtErLuDe~~

       “Sit,” Alec says flatly, pointing at a chair near a window. “I’ll get the bandages.” Jace obeys without complaint.

       Jessa is sprawled out over one of two narrow beds, the one closest to the window that Jace is sitting under. Isabelle had left once we’d gotten Jace into the room, presumably to check on Aline and Sebastian.

       Alec yanks a duffel out from under his bed (the one that’s Jessa’s on), rummaging through the contents a bit louder than strictly necessary. Jessa rolls so that her upper half is hanging off the bed, snaking one hand into the bag and withdrawing a box to hand to Alec. The Lightwood takes it without a word.

       “Aren’t you going to use a healing rune?” Jace asks curiously.

       “No,” Alec snaps. “You can just—“

       He breaks off, flinging the box at Jessa, who catches it with a disgruntled look. In sharp, angry movements, the Lightwood heads over to a sink on the wall and washes his hands so forcefully that water splatters across my arms from where I’m leaned up against the door.

       Striding back over to Jessa, he snatches the box from his _parabatai_ , pulling up another chair so that he’s sitting opposite Jace.

       “Give me your hand,” the older boy says flatly. Jace holds it out, and I nearly wince in sympathy before remembering that Jace had brought this onto himself. All four of his knuckles are split open, the blood already tacky and clinging to his fingers. “You’re an idiot,” Alec mutters.

       “Thanks,” the blonde replies dryly. Alec is already bent over Jace’s hand, using a pair of tweezers to pluck shards of glass out of my brother’s knuckles. “So, why not?”

       “Why not what?” Alec replies, not looking up.

       “Why not use a healing rune? This isn’t a demon injury.”

       “Because,” Alec says, reaching for a bottle of antiseptic, “I think it would do you good to feel the pain. You can heal like a mundane. Slow and ugly. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Jesse snorts from the bed, rolling into a sitting position.

       “I highly doubt that anything could get through his thick skull,” she says.

       “I can always do my own healing rune, you know,” Jace says, sitting unnaturally still.

       “Only if you want me to tell the Penhallow’s what really happened to their window, instead of letting them think it was an accident,” Alec snarks back, wrapping bandages around Jace’s hand. He jerks the end of the length of cloth to tighten it, and the blonde winces. “You know, if I’d thought you were going to do this to yourself, I would never have told you anything.” He pauses, glancing at his other _parabatai_ on the bed. “Jessa, your advice is horrible.”

       My twin shrugs, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around her legs.

       “Yes, you would have,” Jace insists, head cocked to one side. “I didn’t realize my attack on the picture window would upset you quite so much.”

       “It’s just—“

       Alec breaks off, lifting his head now that he’s finished bandaging Jace’s hand. “Why do you do these things yo yourself? Not just what you did to the window, but the way you talked to Clary? What are you punishing yourself for? You can’t help how you feel.”

       “How do I feel?” Jace replies, voice unnaturally even. Jessa releases her legs, twisting to look Jace directly in the eye.

       “You feel so much love that it feel like you’re choking on it,” she says softly. “And it’s not even that that you care about, it’s that you can’t have her.” She cocks her head. “You haven’t wanted something you haven’t been able to have in a long time, Jace.”

       “How would you know?” Jace snaps back. “You don’t feel the same things as I do.” Jessa recoils like she’s been slapped. I straighten up, ready to defend my twiin, but she shakes her head subtly. Her eyes are full of shame, though, and I want nothing more than to ram my stupid idiot brother into a wall head-first.

       “Jace—“

       “What’s between you and Magnus Bane?” Jace asks sharply, interrupting Alec.

       “I don’t—there’s nothing—“

       “I’m not stupid,” Jace says. There’s an edge to his casual tone, and I really don’t like it. “You went right to Magnus after you talked to Malachi, before you talked to me or Isabelle or Jessa or anyone—“

       “Because he was the only one who could answer my question, that’s why. There isn’t anything between us,” Alec insists.

       “I hope that’s not because of me,” Jace says. Jessa’s eyes widen, and she reels back on the bed as Alec jumps away from Jace.

       “What do you mean?”

       “I know how you think you feel about me,” my brother replies. “You don’t, though. You just like me because I’m safe. There’s no risk. And then you never have to try to have a real relationship, because you can use me as an excuse.”

       Alec seems to have shrunk into himself, jaw set and shoulders tense. “I get it,” he says tightly. “First Clary, the your hand, now me. To hell with you, Jace.”

       “You don’t believe me?” Jace taunts. “Fine. Go ahead. Kiss me right now.”

       “Jace,” Jessa says quietly.

       “Shut up,” Jace snaps back, rounding on her. “You don’t know what it’s like to love someone so much that you want to spend the rest of your life with, and you never will. You’re never going to get anything about it. You think you know, but you don’t. Nothing you feel is real, Jessamine, everything that you’ve been feeling since we linked was us, not you.”

       Jessa’s face goes blank and expressionless, whole body stilling as if she’d been petrified. Her eyes stare back at her _parabatai_ blankly, glassy and unseeing. I stare at Jace inn absolute shock, because even throughout all the time I’ve known him, Jace has never used Jessa’s sexuality against her. He’s never used mine against me either, no matter how much he’d wanted to punish himself. That jab earlier? Wasn’t too bad. But that _explosion_ , the words he’d flung at Jess… they were ones that he’d never dared say to her before.

       Slowly, ever so slowly, Jessa sits up, posture ramrod straight and movements robotic.  Jace’s fAcE has smoothed over into an impassive mask, but there’s something like regret in his eyes now.

       None of us speak when my twin walks out of the room.

**JESSA**

       Walking away is easy. Far too easy.

       I don’t know why, because I always want to cling to things and hold them close so that they’ll never escape.

       But Jace has never thrown those words at me, never used _that_ against me.

       He hadn’t understanded aromanticism when I’d first come out (whispered to Jak and Jace, huddled in a small clump, far into the woods where Michael Wayland Valentine couldn’t hear us), and I hadn’t even known what to call it, but on our rare trips to town we’d gone off and looked it up.

       Aromanticism is not feeling any romantic attraction to anyone, ever. Aromantic, the website had said.

       And later, after the Shadowhunters had chased us into Magnus’ open arms, I’d come out again, this time as asexual.

       Asexuality is not feeling any sexual attraction to anyone, ever.

      Jak had come out to us just before Valentine faked his death, and still, Jace was accepting.

      No matter how much he’d wanted to punish himself by pushing us away, he’d never used that against us.

      But he did now, and it’s like he knew exactly where to shove that knife. Because I’d never be able to understand loving someone romantically, loving them so strongly, so fiercely that you’d never want to let them go. I thought I could. And yet… what Jace had said was _right_ , no matter how much I’d tried to deny it. All that _love_ I’d been feeling wasn't mine. It was Jace’s, for Clary, and Alec’s, for Magnus, no matter how much either of them would deny it.

       The _love_ I’d felt was not mine.

~~~~~

       Jace leaves too, heading up to the Gard to break Simon out.

       Jak had come to sit with me beside the window, watching our brother’s retreating back. Alec had passed through, and I can feel a wriggling, wormy sensation that I know is _worry_ , but can’t bring myself to assure Alec that _I’m not broken, I’m going to heal even if it won’t be for a while_.

       Jak had explained everything to Alec, who had explained it to Isabelle via a furiously whispered conversation in the kitchen, and when the younger Lightwood had exited the kitchen, she’d thrown me a pitying look before disappearing with Aline.

       Nobody attempts to speak to me. I don’t attempt to talk to anyone either.

       Jace comes back for a while fifteen minutes and leaves with a metal flask full of blood.

       He doesn’t attempt to speak with me either.

       Maryse and Jia return for a short while before heading back up to the Gard.

       Eventually, I retreat to my room for the night.

~~~~~

       Jace still hasn’t come back, and it’s getting late. Extremely late.

       I’ve had enough time to breathe, and followed Jak into the living room where Alec, Isabelle, Aline and Sebastian are gathered. They all look at me sympathetically, but I ignore those looks and pretend that nothing is wrong. Because nothing is.

       Well, except everything.

       “It’s late,” Isabelle says worriedly, pulling the lace curtain across the window once more. “He ought to be back by now.”

       “Be reasonable, Isabelle,” Alec points out. He’s using his special big brother tone, the kind that says _don’t worry, you’re just overreacting_ . He’s lounging on one of the armchairs near the fireplace, looking perfectly calm even if I can feel his rampant _worry, fear, anxiety_ chasing each other in circles around my stomach. “Jace does this when he’s upset, goes off and wanders around. He said he was going for a walk. He’ll be back.”

       Isabelle sighs heavily. “But he knows New York,” she says worriedly. “He doesn’t know Alicante—“

       “He probably know sit better than you do,” Aline interrupts from her place on a couch, book spread out on her lap. “He lived here until he was ten. You guys have only visited a few times.”

       Isabelle lifts a hand to her neck absently, and before her hand covers the gleaming ruby on her neck I think I see it pulse brighter. No. Impossible. Alicante has no demons, why would the necklace be telling us there is?

       “I don’t think he’s wandering around, anyway,” the Lightwood says, ‘I think it’s pretty obvious where he went.”

       “Clary?” Jak asks from where he’s stretched out on a couch opposite Aline, his feet in Sebastian’s lap and Earendil sitting beside him in yet another armchair.

       Sebastian’s hair is suspiciously messy, and Jak’s lips are slightly swollen. 

       “Is she still here?” Aline asks, closing her book. “I thought she was supposed to be going back to New York.” She pauses, setting the book aside. “Where is Jace’s sister staying, anyway?”

       “Ask him,” Isabelle replies, shrugging while her gaze cuts across the room to land on Sebastian. His dark eyes rise from the page as if from the sheer accusatory force of Isabelle’s game.

       “Were you talking about me?” he asks mildly. Isabelle looks like she’s about to implode, and a faint flicker of _annoyance_ from Alec sparks briefly before being extinguished.

       “What are you reading?” Isabelle asks sharply. Jak’s head lolls off the couch to look at the book Sebastian has propped up on the arm of the couch.

       “Is that one of Max’s comic books?” my twin asks surprisedly.

       “Yep.” Sebastian looks down at the pages splayed out on the couch arm. “I like the pictures.”

       Jak looks mildly amused, moving his head back to rest against a cushion. Isabelle let’s out an exasperated huff. Alec shoots her a warning look before turning to Sebastian.

       “Sebastian, earlier today… Does Jace know where you went?”

       “You mean that I was out with Clary?” the other boy replies, amusement flickering over his face. “Look, it’s not a secret. I would have told Jace if I’d seen him since.”

       “I don’t see why he would care,” Aline says, an edge to her conversational tone. “It’s not like Sebastian did anything wrong. So what if he wants to show Clarissa some of Iris before she goes home? Jace out to be pleased his sister isn’t sitting around bored and annoyed.”

       Isabelle, Alec, Jak and I all exchange wary looks.

       “He can be very… protective,” Alec says carefully, which is probably the most underrated statement I have ever heard. I’ve _felt_ Jace’s _love_ and _worry_ and _protectiveness_ for Clary, and even if I kinda hate the girl, Jace loves her so fiercely that I don’t want to get in the way of that.

       “He should back off,” Aline says with a frown. “It can’t be good for her, being so overprotected. The look on her face when she walked in on us, it was like she’d never seen anyone kissing before. I mean, who knows, maybe she hasn’t.” I want to laugh, because I’d see the way Jace had kissed Clary in the Seelie Court. Felt the _guilt_ , the _love_ , the _regret_ , the _joy_ and most of all the _love_ that would never be mine.

       “She has,” Isabelle says more eloquently. “It’s not that.”

       “Then what is it?” Sebastian asks, shifting slightly and brushing a few strands of dark hair out of his face. There’s some sort of mark across his palm, like a wound, but Sebastian’s already moved his hand before I can be sure. “Is it just that he hates me personally? Because I don’t know what it is I ever—“

       “That’s my book,” a small voice cuts in. My head snaps around immediately, gaze settling on a sleepy-looking Max in grey pajamas. He’s glaring at Sebastian, and I’m faintly amused by the intensity of it.

       “What, this?” Sebastian presents the comic to Max. “Here you go, kid.” The youngest Lightwood stalks across the room, snatching the book from the older boy.

       “Don’t call me kid.”

       Sebastian laughs, tapping Jak’s legs gently so that my twin moves them briefly for him to stand. “I’m getting some coffee,” he says, heading for the kitchen as Jak readjusts his position. The other boy pauses in the doorway. “Does anyone want anything?”

       “A functional family,” I mumble, barely loud enough for myself to hear. Everyone else answers with different variations of no. The door swings shut behind Sebastian.

       “Max,” Isabelle says sharply. “Don’t be rude.

       “I don’t like it when people take my stuff,” Max says stubbornly, comic book hugged tightly to his chest.

       “Grow up, Max,” Izzy says irately. “He was just borrowing it.” A flicker of guilt passes over her face before it clears. “You should be in bed anyway,” she continues, in a much calmer tone. “It’s late.”

       “There were noises up on the hill,” the nine-year-old says petulantly. “They woke me up.” He blinks, and it’s only now that I realize he’s not wearing any glasses. “Isabelle… “

       The second-oldest Lightwood turns away from the window she’s been lurking beside for well over an hour. “What?”

       “Do people ever climb the demon towers?” Max hesitates. “Like, for any reason?” _Amusement, confusion_ and then _curiosity._

       “Climb the demon towers?” Aline asks with a laugh. “No, no one ever does that. It’s totally illegal, for one thing; and besides, why would you want to?”

       “I would totally climb a demon tower to drop shi—“

       Jak cuts himself off quickly, clearing his throat with a nervous glance at Max. “I’d climb a demon tower just to drop things on people.”

       “But someone did,” Max insists with a frown. “I know I saw—“

       “Whatever you think you saw, you probably dreamed it,” Isabelle tells her baby brother firmly.

       A flicker of _worry_ flits across my mind as Max’s face creases, but Alec stands up quickly to hold out a hand. “Come on, Max,” my _parabatai_ says, the faint undertones of _love_ , the one that I’m familiar with, swimming around in my brain. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

       “We should all go to bed,” Aline declares, rising to her feet. The Penhallow walks over to Isabelle, drawing the curtains shut decisively. “It’s already almost midnight, who knows when they,l get back from the Council? There’s no point staying—“

       She never finishes, because at that moment something shatters the window from the outside.

      Aline barely has time to scream before massive, scaly claws smeared with blood and some sort of black, oily substance seize her, yanking her through the window.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *squeaks* I’m back! *hides*

**JESSA**

      “Shit!” I hear Jak exclaim. I ignore him, vaulting over the couch and snatching Isabelle’s whip from the table. I fling it across the room, careful, even in the heat of the moment, to throw it in such a way that it doesn’t uncoil.

      Isabelle catches it effortlessly, and I turn on heel as soon as I know that she has it, dashing past a shocked Sebastian and barrelling into the room that Jak and I are sharing. Snagging the duffel with our weapons in it, I hurry back out into the living room.

      Izzy is gone, and all I can do is hope that she’s finding Aline. I arrive just in time to see Earendil leap out the shattered window, sword gleaming with otherworldly. Alec has shoved Max into Jak, who’s wrangled them both behind a couch, Jak’s hands clamped firmly over Max’s ears. Alec’s eyes meet mine, and there’s a tornado of _confusion, fear, worry, anxiety, why_ , but I dump the bag of weapons on the floor of the living room and tug Jehoel out of its sheath as I snatch a pair of knives and tuck them into my belt.

       _Understanding._ The tiniest sliver of _calm._

      Alec sprints up the stairs, towards his room, and I unzip the duffel, tossing Sebastian a set of knives. Jak has left Max behind the couch, and I throw Zadkiel across the room to him. My twin’s jaw sets, and he takes up a defensive stance in front of the couch Max is huddled behind.

      Thundering footsteps alert me to Alec’s arrival, and the two of us lock eyes.

      I pull my stele out, tracing runes out onto my skin. Weakness, blindness, deceleration turn into strength, sharp vision and speed for me, runes detrimental to a normal Shadowhunter spiraling across my skin with each neat stroke.

      “Jessa and I will go after Isabelle, Sebastian and you stay behind with Max,” Alec commands, voice calm and in control even when I can feel the _worry, anxiety, confusion, fear_ churning in my gut. I sketch a quick speak in tongues rune out on my stomach, careful to hold my shirt in a way that won’t show the _parabatai_ rune just above it. “Block the windows, barricade the doors.” His gaze skips over to the window that Aline had been taken through, grip on the rise of his bow (presumably retrieved from upstairs) tightening. “Patch that one up.”

      He darts out the door without any further instructions, and I follow him, Jehoel shining in my hands.

      Outside, Earendil is holding his own against three Oni, but I can see two more creeping up behind. Alec’s bow is up, arrow nocked and drawn in the space of a heartbeat. His shot flies true, impaling one of the two demons trying to sneak up on the merman.

      Earendil ducks aside from a strike from the Oni, and I quickly launch myself across the garden, Jehoel held out in front of me, slashing down on the demon.

      The Oni howls, taking a swipe at me, attention removed from the merman entirely. I give ground, backing into the flower beds before rolling away from another attack and spearing the Oni from its right.

      By the time I make it back to Alec and Earendil, they’ve disposed of the other four.

      “Is Jak still inside?” is the first thing Earendil asks of me.

      I nod mutely, eyes skipping over the dark shadows behind the merman warily. Pause. Focus back on Earendil.

       _Why out here?_ I ask, Jehoel tucked carefully under one arm, sheathe lying forgotten on the floor of the Penhallow’s living room.

      “Jak told me to,” the faerie replies with a shrug. I huff, pointing back at the house.

      “Maybe you should go back and help them patch the window up,” Alec translates.

      Earendil hesitates a beat before nodding and jogging back inside.

      “Go right, I’ll go left,” Alec mutters, slinging his bow over one shoulder and drawing a shorter seraph blade.

      Far in the distance, I can hear screaming. Doors to houses lining the street have been left flung open, forgotten in their inhabitants’ rush to see what was happening outside. People congest the street, terrified faces forming a sea. There are no adults, only the young, the old and the ill because all the adults are up in the Gard, arguing over how to approach the Mortal Instrument problem.

      Alec sprints away from me, _panic_ tingeing his protective _worry_ that could only be for Max, Isabelle and Jace.

      The only thing I can do to comfort myself as I hurry down the street to the right is tell myself that nothing alarming has come from Jace’s end of the bond.

     A shriek splits the air in front of me—too close. My legs pump faster, and I skid around the corner. There’s a girl and a boy, backs against the wall as they face down a massive Kuri demon with fire pokers.

      Jehoel sings as I bring it around, arm flexing as I fling the seraph blade with deadly accuracy, the weakness rune burning. The blade sinks deep into the Kuri’s side, almost all the way to the hilt, and the demon shrieks in pain, reeling away from the kids. I charge forwards, and the Kuri spits yellow poison. I veer to the side in order to avoid it, knives whirling into my hands as I approach the demon.

      Ducking under a striking leg, I sink my knife into the leg as it passes over me, dragging it along as I run forwards. The Kuri howls, and I bring up my knife to parry its pincers that snap closed in a dangerous proximity to my head. When it spits its poison once again, I move to the side, swiveling my wrist as I do so, sheltering myself under one leg as I bring my other knife up to impale the Kuri’s head from the bottom.

      The demon slumps, and I quickly jump out from under it, yanking my knives away.

      Making a face at the smell, I wipe the blades on my jeans as I hurry over to retrieve Jehoel.

      A small whimper draws my attention to where the boy and girl had been standing, and I shoot to my feet. Tucking Jehoel under my arm carefully, I walk over to the two cautiously.

       _You o-k?_ I sign. The two kids both start, looking around wildly. Normally I would’ve laughed, but right now I crouch down so that they’re looking down at me. _Just me_ , I sign, trying to convey comfort. _Need to know if o-k._

      The boy, wide-eyed and pale, has dropped his fire poker and wrapped his arms around the trembling girl. This close up, I can tell that the two are somehow related. The resemblance is uncanny, although they appeared to be about the same age. Twins, maybe?

       _You o-k?_ I sign again. The boy’s head moves up and down shakily, lips pressed together tightly as if in an effort to repress a sob. I smile as kindly as I can, heart hurting because of how much they remind me of Jak and myself. _You have parents?_

      The boy nods again.

       _They up in Gard?_

      Another nod.

       _Do you want to come with me?_

      The boy hesitates, eyes darting down to the girl, who’s twisted her head around to eye me carefully.

       _I have friends who will help_ , I sign quickly. _Back at house. Can look for parents when safe._

      The boy stares at my hands, then at my face.

      He nods.

      I extend a hand.

~~iNtErMiSsIoN fOr DrAmAtIc PuRpOsEs~~

      The journey back to the Penhallow’s is chaotic, and more than once I have to release the boy’s hand to cut down demons. There are a few bodies littering the streets, and shattered glass glints in the light.

      Far in the distance, the demon towers have gone dark.

      People are screaming names that I don’t recognize, looking for their loved ones, their friends, their family.

      The streets are clogged with demons and people alike, so I lead the kids around the carnage, away from the demons as much as I can.

      From here, I have a view of a massive building covered in dancing flames.

      The Gard.

      The Penhallow’s comes into view up ahead, and an explosion booms somewhere in the distance. Running feet echo against cobblestone, shrieks and cries of pain rising above everything else. Smoke is drifting down from the Gard, and I cough on it as I tug the twins forwards.

      A figure appears out of the darkness, a twisting surge of _relief_ flooding my head as Alec and I make eye contact.

      The windows in the house are dark, and I hear the girl whimper once more, but I set my jaw and hurry up to Alec where he’s holding the door open.

      “I doused the lights,” my _parabatai_ explains, closing and locking the door. “I didn’t want to attract any more of them.” Isabelle, who’d been walking alongside Alec outside, is pushed into the living room where Sebastian and Jak are nailing logs from the fireplace across the broken window.

      Jak drops his hammer as soon as he sees me, rushing across the room to envelop me in a hug.

      His hands are hot, almost painfully so, but they cool down a bit as he squeezes me tight.

      Movement down below has him releasing me, looking down in confusion.

      The boy’s solemn grey eyes look back at him.

      “Uh. Jess?”

       _Lost_ , I sign in explanation, tossing Jehoel onto one of the couches. Jak hesitates before crouching down and holding out a hand.

      “Hey, guys,” he says, voice soft and gentle. He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “My name’s Jak, I’m Jessa’s twin brother. Jess is the one who brought you here.”

      The girl is the first to move, wiping away tears before moving forwards.

      “Do you know where our parents are?” she asks in a small voice.

      Jak pauses before speaking, choosing his words carefully. “No. But we’re safe here, and once the noise outside dies down we can go look for your parents up at the Gard.”

      The girl’s lip trembles, and she looks so horribly small that I want to hold her tight and protect her from everything that’s happening outside. “The Gard was on fire,” the girl says, voice wobbling.

      Jak glances up at me for confirmation, and I nod quietly. He fixes a smile on his face.

      “I’m sure they had the sense to apply a fireproof rune when the Gard started burning “ he says, voice upbeat and cheery. “If the Gard is gone, then everyone should be gathering in the Hall of Accords. I promise that we’ll be able to find them when everything quiets down. For now, why don’t you go talk to Max, alright?”

      The girl hesitates, but the boy tugs on her hand. She glances back at him, and an unspoken conversation seems to pass between the two.

      They go over to the stairs where Max is sitting, Isabelle crouched in front of him as she strokes his hair.

      “There were demons out in the street,” Alec says, collapsing onto a nearby couch. Earendil walks in from the kitchen, decked out in full faerie armor, sword sheathed at his side.

      “Are they still there?” Max asks, eyes large and round.

      “No, but there are some still in the city,” Alec replies. _Worry_ is twisting my insides into knots, but there’s a panicked sort of _calm_ muffling the worst of it. “We have to think about what we’re going to do next.”

      “Where’s Aline?” Sebastian cuts in with a frown.

      “She ran off,” Isabelle replies, voice tired but strong. “It was my fault. I should have been—“

      “It was not your fault,” Alec snaps in a clipped tone, protective _anger_ surging up my throat. “Without you, she’d be dead.” He sighs, pushing himself into a standing position. “Look, we don’t have time for self-recriminations. I’m going to go after Aline. I want you six to stay here. Isabelle, Jessa, look after the kids. Sebastian, Jak, finish securing the house.”

      “We can help,” the girl pipes up. Her jaw is set, mouth pressed into a stubborn line. Tear tracks glisten on her cheeks, but blue-green eyes look at us determinedly. Beside her, the boy stands tall, gray eyes mirroring the girl’s drive.

      Alec hesitates.

      Earendil clears his throat. “The most reasonable course of action would be to pair up. That way we could stay in groups and minimize chances of being split up even further.”

      I nod, mind quickly piecing together a hurried strategy. _J, S-E-B mark house_ , I suggest in sign. _I go with you, I-Z stay with merman_ [the sign for fish followed by man] _. Kids stay here. We get ready to leave._

      “I don’t want either of you going out there!” Isabelle exclaims. “Take me with you! Jak can watch the kids.”

      “We need you two to protect the kids if anything happens,” Alec says, tone even as my gut churns with _regret_ and so much _worry_ that I’m afraid I’m going to puke. “There’s every chance our parents will be coming back any minute from the Gard. If you need to leave, go to the Hall of Accords. But the more of us here, the better. It’ll be too easy for us to get separated out there. I’m not risking it, Isabelle.” My _parabatai_ looks over to Sebastian. “Do you understand?”

      Sebastian’s stele is already out, beckoning Jak over. “I’ll start warding the house with Marks. Jak, are you coming?” the ravenette says, last part directed at my twin. Jak hesitates, looking back at me for reassurance even if I was the one who’d suggested it. I nod, beckoning Max and the other two kids over to my side. My twin nods back, following Sebastian into the kitchen and presumably out back.

      Alec’s shoulders seem to lose a bit of their tension, and he sighs heavily. “Thanks,” he says, _gratitude_ and _reassurance_ washing over me in waves. His eyes lock wth Isabelle, conveying some sort of silent message.

      Then he’s gone.

      Isabelle’s fists clenched at her sides, and by the look on her face I can guess that it’s subconscious, but when she turns to Max and the other two kids, her hands relax. “Jessa and I are going to protect you on our way to the Gard,” she says, walking over and crouching down to Max’s height. “Jak and Sebastian are warding the house, but once they’re finished we’re going to leave. I promise you that we’re going to get you all up to the Hall of Accords in one piece and then we’re going to find your parents.”

      I cock an eyebrow, but raise no objection to the unsolicited revision to the plan. The sooner we’re out of the city, the better.

      The girl’s jaw is set, but it’s trembling as she nods once. “My name’s Livvy,” she says quietly. “This is my twin, Ty.” She’s got a white-knuckled grip on her twin’s wrist, and I can relate to that fear of losing the person closest to you, another half of your very being.

 

**JAK**

      As soon as we’re outside, Sebastian is gripping my wrist and slamming me against the wall, mouth going straight to my neck. I tip my head back out of habit, shuddering at the feel of the other’s lips roaming up and down the exposed column of my throat.

      “Seb,” I manage to get in. “Hey, Seb.”

      Sebastian pauses, mouth pressed into the junction between my neck and shoulder. “Come on,” he says, breath warm against my skin. “The city is being overrun by demons, we deserve to have a little last-minute fun.”

      I bring my hands up from where they’d been resting on Sebastian’s hips, moving them up to his shoulders and pushing him away gently. “The last-minute fun can wait until we get the kids up to the Hall of Accords,” I say, surprised at how firm it comes out.

      He groans, leaning in a little closer. “The Hall of Accords will be full of stodgy old Shadowhunters,” Sebastian breathes. My eyes are drawn to his lips, but I wrench my gaze up to focus on his eyes, pools of darkness that are equal parts frightening and enticing. “Isabelle and Jessa can take care of the kids.”

      “They’ll notice,” I point out.

      “Don’t be so negative,” Sebastian laughs, hands wandering down and slipping just past my hips. “Just a little more.”

      I hesitate, but hands easing their way into the waistband of my jeans make me tense up. This is all too fast and too close and too dangerous to be doing at this time, and the way Sebastian smiles… it’s like a fish hook, delving deep into the depths of my mind and pulling up things that I wished would remain hidden. My palms are heating up, and I quickly pull them away from Sebastian’s shoulders lest he feel the unnatural warmth as my chest tightens.

      “Later,” I manage to choke out. “This can’t happen now.”

      “Who says it can’t?” Sebastian challenges, hands idling. They’re cold against my bare skin.

      “Me,” I say firmly, grappling with the panic clawing it’s way up my throat. Sebastian’s grip, just below my hips, tightens. “Sebastian,” I try, hands downright burning. “Sebastian, stop.”

      “Why?” the ravenette shoots back, hands only clamping down tighter. “Give me one good reason.”

      My hands burst into flame of their own accord, green mixing with red and black, licking it’s way up my arms. Sebastian lets out a yell of surprise, yanking his hands away and backing up a few steps.

      “Stay away,” I say quietly. My hands are shaking violently.

      Sebastian’s face is lit up eerily, and he makes it even more sinister by twisting his face up into a disappointed frown. “Oh, Jakson,” he sighs, stepping forwards. “If only you’d have let me keep on going. This would have all been avoided.”

 

**JESSA**

      There is a sick feeling in my stomach. It only gets worse when Earendil, walking out of the kitchen with the duffel full of miscellaneous magical items slung over his shoulder, stops in his tracks and cocks his head to the side.

      He drops the bag.

      “Stay here,” the merman says, drawing his sword and turning on heel. Isabelle looks up from where she’s sat on the sofa, arm around Max.

      “What is it?”

      “Stay here,” Earendil repeats, striding back into the kitchen.

      I look back to Isabelle, who looks just as lost as I am. “Something’s wrong,” she whispers, brow furrowing. “Out back.”

      My shoulders stiffen. **Jak and Sebastian.**

      As if to confirm my fears, the sound of blades clashing is heard, and I don’t stop to spare another glance at Isabelle before I’m dashing into the kitchen, bursting out into the backyard.

      It’s dark, but I can see the glow of two blades, one fae and one angelic, exchanging blows. Jak is nowhere in sight. Sebastian… Sebastian is the one wielding the seraph blade against Earendil.

      Rage bubbles up, fast and quick, because I’d trusted Sebastian with my twin, trusted that my twin was getting better, that Sebastian was another step towards recovery. But I should’ve known better.

      There’s a weak groan by my feet, and I jump, gaze snapping to the ground.

      My heart almost jumps out of my chest in relief, because there is Jak, lying on the ground, the stench of burnt grass surrounding him. I fumble around in my pockets, searching for my stele as I drop to my knees beside him. My twin let’s out another weak groan, and I shush him, withdrawing my steel from one of the inside pockets of the jacket.

      “You’re fine,” I promise, hoping that I’m right. “You’re safe. I’m here, you’re going to get out of this.”

      Jak stirs, eyes fluttering open as I hurry to sketch out an agony rune. As it sinks into his skin, my twin’s eyes become brighter, charged with fear and adrenaline. His hand shoots out to catch my wrist. “Sebastian,” he rasps. “Sebastian, he’s… he’s… You need to-to go, get” —a groan— “out, Jess, now.”

      “Okay,” I say, ignoring the clash of blades behind me. “Okay, we’re going to leave. Earendil is taking care of Sebastian, and we’re going to leave, I promise. Can you stand?”

      Jak shifts, rolling onto his hands and knees with a pained groan. I scramble to my feet, helping support my twin as he staggers upright. “We’re going inside,” I say, fighting to maintain a calm tone, like two people aren’t having a duel just behind me. “One foot in front of the other.”

      We stagger inside like a pair of drunks, and I maneuver my twin into the living room. Isabelle sits up, posture ramrod straight as she takes in Jak’s state.

      “What—“

      “We need to go,” I interrupt, fighting waves of panic, because Livvy and Ty are looking at me strangely while Max has settled on a sort of analytical expression. Isabelle’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds, glancing at the kids behind her. Then she straightens up quickly, nodding.

      “Earendil—“

      “Taking care of it,” I say, shifting Jak against my shoulder. Isabelle’s lips press themselves together, forming a thin line, and she stands, sweeping Jehoel off the adjacent couch.

      “Do we need to bring anything?”

      “Hide the duffel,” I decide, tipping my head to the bag full of magical oddities. “Nobody can find it.”

      Isabelle nods, not asking why, and hurries past me. She’s back barely a minute later, expression grim. “They’re both gone,” the ravenette explains. “The backyard is empty.”

      Jak’s head looks forwards, and he groans, but manages to tip his head back up. “Are we leaving?” he asks, voice weak and wobbly.

      “Yeah,” Izzy says, holding a hand out to Max. She tosses Jehoel over to me, and I catch the blade with my free hand. “Let’s go.”

~~~~~

      The Hall of Accords is packed, and the very sight of all the people jammed into one place almost makes me want to turn around and leave, even if it’s almost completely silent. Isabelle’s expression is grim, but she adjusts her grip on Max and plunges into the chaos. I hurry to follow, not keen on being left to fend for myself. Jak had gotten slightly more coherent as we’d traveled through the city, and Livvy has latched onto his free hand, her other hand clasped in Ty’s.

      Keeping track of Izzy’s bobbing head, I follow her through the hall, navigating through the throng with care. The floor is smeared with dirt and blood, making it slippery and easy to fall on. I keep half of my focus on Izzy, dedicating the other half to making sure that Jak doesn’t tip over. And then Isabelle’s head speeds up, making a beeline towards a familiar head of blonde locks situated beside a curtain of red.

      “Jace!” she calls, at the same time a wave of _relief_ , _anger_ , _resentment_ crashes over me and a familiar voice cries out the same name. Up ahead, Jace’s head whips around to face Alec, who bursts out of the crowd and grabs him by the front of the jacket. Izzy speeds up, climbing the steps to a mermaid fountain at top speed. I push aside the weariness beginning to set in and quicken my own pace, soon coming even to Isabelle, and we make our way over to the boys.

      “You’d said you were going for a walk!” Alec exclaims, shaking Jace lightly. Clary is looking back and forth between my two _parabatai_ with confusion written all over her. “What kind of walk takes six hours?”

      “A long one?” Jace suggests dryly.

      “I could kill you,” Alec says, releasing Jace’s jacket. “I’m seriously thinking about it.”

      “That would kind of defeat the point, though, wouldn’t it,” Jace objects. His golden eyes settle on me with a hint of hesitancy, _regret_ a quiet undertone to his and Alec’s _relief_. I pause for a moment, collecting my thoughts.

      I’m not quite ready to forgive him for what he said, I decide. But the city is full of demons that shouldn’t be able to be there, and everyone that I’ve begun to grow close to over the last month is still alive, so I can settle for being civil.

      Jace’s eyes grow softer in understanding, but when he sees Jak’s current state, they widen in surprise.

      “What happened to him?”

      Alec whips around, as if only noticing us, blue eyes widening as _irritation_ and _exasperation_ battle with his _relief_ . Cleary has to lean a bit to see around him, but when she sees my twin, her eyes widen. “I thought I told you to stay at the Penhallows,” Alec says, settling on _exasperation_ and _relief._

      “Unless we had to leave,” Isabelle points out. “Sebastian went psycho and Earendil had to deal with him, so we left while we still could.” Clary’s eyes are growing wider by the minute.

      “Sebastian going psycho wouldn’t have anything to do with Jak, would it?” Jace asks, a stormy expression flitting across his face.

      Jak’s head tips to the side, and I feel his cheeks moving as his mouth forms a smile. “Just a coincidence,” he says, forced humor coloring his voice.

      Jace’s hands clench into fists. “That little shit,” he growls. “I’m going to _kill_ him—“

      “You’ll have to resurrect him after Earendil’s finished,” Jak interrupts, words slurring together slightly. Jace’s scowl morphs into a worried frown.

      “Did he hit you over the head?” he asks.

      “M’fine,” Jak insists. “S’ just a li’l concussion.”

      “Little concussion my ass,” I whisper under my breath, nudging Jak to get him to move towards the fountain. There’s a group of scruffy-looking people standing around in a loose circle, and I realize with a strange jolt that they’re werewolves. The move aside with minimal grumbling, and I lower Jak to the floor gently, propping him up on the fountain.

      Jace, Alec and Isabelle have followed me, Livvy and Ty hanging back with Isabelle, who’s still got a firm grip on Max. Jace’s stele is already out as he kneels down beside my twin, pulling the neck of his shirt down to sketch out a quick iratze beside my agony rune.

      “Care to explain the two new kids you magicked up out of nowhere?” my blonde _parabatai_ mutters.

      “They were lost,” I reply shortly, sitting back on my heals as the iratze sinks into Jak’s skin.

      There’s movement from behind, and I twist around to crane my head and look up at Clary.

      “Has anyone seen Simon?” she asks, brow furrowed. “He should have come down with the others from the Gard.” I bat away the irritation that flares up, pushing myself to my feet and beckoning Ty and Livvy over to stand beside me.

      Alec shakes his head. “No, I haven’t—but I haven’t seen the Inquisitor, either, or the Consul. He’d probably be with one of them. Maybe they stopped somewhere else, or—“

      A murmur sweeps through the room, and the werewolves surrounding us all perk up on high alert. I follow their gaze to the silhouette of a familiar werewolf, hunched over with weariness and stained with blood, entering through the double doors of the Hall of Accords.

      Clary leaves in a blur of red, pushing through the crowd and making her way towards Luke, barreling into him at full speed. I wince in sympathy, but quickly turn back to Jak, who’s rising to his feet, steadier than he’d been a few moments ago.

      “You good?” Jace asks, hand resting on Jak’s shoulder.

      “I’m not dying, if that’s what you want to know,” Jak replies.

      “And all of a sudden I understand everyone’s impatience with injured me,” Jace mutters, even as another wave of _relief_ touches my mind.

      “Good,” Alec says, turning to me. “What are we going to do with the kids?”

      I shrug helplessly, casting my gaze around for inspiration. And see the Consul, standing in front of Luke, posture aggressive and angry. I clear my throat.

      “Maybe worry about that later,” I say quietly. Alec follows my gaze, blue eyes hardening as he moves down the stairs and across the room. I hurry to keep up with him, knowing that Jak wouldn’t be far behind, Jace on his heels with Isabelle and Max walking at a slower pace to accommodate for nine-year-old legs. Livvy follows me like a ghost, Ty’s hand linked with hers, so I don’t bother to worry about whether or not they’ll get lost in the crowd.

      Alec reaches the Consul and Luke before us, and by the hard set of his expression, nothing good is going down.

      “What can Downworlders do against Valentine?” the Consul is asking with acid in his voice. I grasp for a name. Starts with an M or something. Mallard, or something close to it. The nickname ‘duckman’ pops into my head, and I struggle to keep a straight face despite the situation. Malachai, that’s what it is. “Lucian, you know better than that,” Malachai (my mind whispers ‘duckman’ against my wishes) continues. “You were one of us once. We have always stood alone against all perils and guarded the world from evil. We will meet Valentine’s power now with a power of our own. The Downworlders would do well to stay out of our way. We are Nephilim; we fight our own battles.”

      Never in my life have I wanted to strangle someone more than now.  (Sebastian was going to get his eyeballs carved out and his dick chopped off before being drop-kicked into shark-infested waters once I got my hands on him.)

      “That’s not precisely true, is it?” a familiar voice says, bringing a wave of _comfort_ from Alec. “You lot have used the hell of warlocks on more than one occasion in the past, and paid handsomely for it too,” Magnus adds, roguish expression painted upon his face.

      Malachai’s scowl reminds me of a five-year-old. “I don’t remember the Clave inviting you into the Glass City, Magnus Bane.”

      “They didn’t,” Magnus replies simply. “Your wards are down.”

      “Really?” Malachai (Duckman) asks, sarcasm coating his words. “I hadn’t noticed.”

      “That’s horrible,” Magnus says with faux concern. “Someone should have told you.” He looks at Luke. “Tell him the wards are down.”

      “Malachai, for God’s sake, the Downworlders are strong; we have numbers,” Luke says, looking thoroughly fed up with everything. “I told you, we can help.”

      “And I told you, we don’t want or need your help!” Malachai snaps back, voice rising. I wince, casting around for a place to move. A small crowd has gathered to witness the fight, and I spot Clary slipping away with Magnus. A touch of _worry_ snakes its way through the _parabatai_ bond, and I glance over to Jace and Alec, standing side by side in front of Isabelle and Max.

      Jace meets my eyes, and when he sees that he’s got my full attention, his gaze flickers over to the Consul, then back to me. Parting his lips, I can see his tongue pressed against the back of one of his canines.

      A jolt runs through me.

      Simon. The Gard. The Consul, here. The Inquisitor, the one who had tricked Alec into letting him imprison Simon at the Gard, not here, but the conclusion all the same.

      I look past my _parabatai_ to Jak, who looks back at me helplessly. Alec moves closer, tapping the inside of my arm and tilting his head off to the side. I glance around, making sure no one’s paying attention, before reaching down and grabbing Livvy’s hand in my own, pulling her after me as I follow my twin, my _parabatai_ and Izzy over to a secluded patch of wall.

      “What are we going to do about it?” I hiss, leaning in close so that my words won’t reach the kids.

      “We can’t just leave,” Jak says, a roundabout sort of agreement. “We’ll need to find someone to watch the kids, and if we do they might not let us leave.”

      Alec is chewing his lip thoughtfully, gaze distant.

      “I might have an idea,” he admits in the face of my questioning expression.

~~~~~

      “Hey, Magnus,” I say, nerves that both are and aren’t mine running laps in my stomach. “I’m just going to borrow Clary for a moment.” Magnus and Clary both look at me like a pair of deer caught in headlights, and I use that to my advantage as I reach out to grab Clary by the wrist. I edge to the side, pushing Clary along with me.  “By the way, take care of the kids,” I add, pushing Clary away more insistently, yanking her into a full-on sprint towards the doors of the Hall when Magnus lets out an indignant noise.

      Jace, Alec, Isabelle and Jak meet us at the doors, and together we sprint out onto blood-soaked streets.


End file.
